The Outrageous Belle Marchmain. Lucy Ashford

the contrary—’ Belle’s voice shook now ‘—I think I understand you only too well.’ Not even Jarvis had made her feel as wretched as she did now.

      She saw him utter some low expletive under his breath. Then: ‘I’ll call my carriage for you,’ said Adam curtly, turning to the door again.

      She looked distraught. ‘I would prefer to walk. In fact—I insist on walking!’

      He threw her one last, withering look. ‘There’s a fine line between independence and sheer stupidity. I repeat: I’ll summon my carriage.’

      As the luxurious coach moved off Belle was aware that the thunderclouds had passed overhead and once more the sun shone brightly in the late afternoon sky. She was still able to move, she was able to breathe. Yet it seemed as if nothing was working any more. It reminded her of how she’d felt when they came five years ago to tell her that her husband had died. The world went on, but for her nothing could be the same.

      Belle was crushed and humiliated by what had just occurred, yet it was her fault for breaking all the rules—not just of civilised behaviour, but of survival. Davenant was a cruel man with massive power; she’d insulted him badly in Somerset and he’d not forgotten. Men like him never did.

      Today she’d stupidly attacked him again and he’d swiftly resolved upon the most devastating revenge possible. Without pity he’d provoked her into the ultimate degradation of offering herself to him. In response he’d proved to her with lethal finality that it took only one touch of his firm lips for her to melt helplessly in his arms—then he told her he didn’t want her after all.

      It was done with utter and casual contempt, because all he really wanted was to be rid of her and her brother as swiftly as he could.

      But—what would have happened if he had accepted her offer? If he’d carried on kissing her, and …

      It simply didn’t bear thinking about. She looked around at last, recoiling with a shudder from the rich velvet seats, the satin linings of this luxurious carriage. She’d rescued Edward from the threat of prison and her enemy had got his revenge in spectacular fashion. Her whole body still trembled from his wonderful caresses.

      And she felt as wretched as she’d ever felt in her whole life.

      Arriving back at her shop just before five, Belle slipped in through the back door, hoping to get upstairs and restore herself to some sort of calmness before joining Gabby in the shop.

      But Edward was there, pacing the tiny office at the back with the door open. He sprang towards her as soon as he saw her.

      ‘Well? How did it go with Davenant?’ he said importantly. ‘I have to set off back to Somerset tomorrow, to poor Charlotte, so I need to be sure that it’s all sorted.’

      Wearily Belle joined him and shut the door on them both. ‘How did you know that I’d been to see him?’

      ‘Oh, I called earlier and heard that Matt had borrowed a carriage for you. Did you twist Davenant round your little finger, sister mine?’

      Actually, Edward, it was all rather a horrid surprise. I found out that I’d met him before. I let him kiss me. I made an utter and complete idiot of myself.

      Belle gazed at her younger brother. What in the name of goodness would he say, if he learned Davenant had suggested just now that she be his mistress—then changed his mind?

      Edward would splutter. He would spout about their family honour and Davenant’s lowly background, and, dear God, Belle couldn’t face that ju st now.

      ‘It is indeed all sorted,’ she said tonelessly. ‘He’s agreed to forget about those sheep you stole.’

      ‘I didn’t—’ he began.

      Belle just looked at him and his voice trailed away. But being Edward, he quickly recovered. ‘Big of him to say he’d forget it,’ grumbled her brother, ‘considering those sheep were on land that should by rights be mine!’

      She whirled round on him. ‘Edward. You put me in an almost impossible position, by telling me he paid you only two hundred guineas for that land, when, in fact, he paid you two thousand. How could you?’

      He flushed slightly. ‘Whatever, Belle, the fellow’s no right to give himself airs.’

      ‘That fellow could have put you in a debtors’ gaol!’