“So you hired him to contrive these various accidents but then neglected to compensate him?”
“I had every intention of paying him as soon as I came into the funds.”
It was like so many of the upper class, treating their servants and tradesmen like cattle, Damon thought, uncurling his fists in an effort to calm his urge for retribution. The question of what to do with Signor Vecchi and his lackey, however, still remained.
Turning, Damon addressed Prince Lazzara. “I am inclined to let you mete out justice for your cousin, your highness. We could perhaps press charges against him for assault, but as he is a high-ranking diplomat, it might create difficulties for our government. And I suspect the punishment you choose will be more severe.”
“You may count on it, my lord,” the prince agreed grimly.
“You will, of course, see that he leaves the country immediately?”
“Yes, most assuredly.”
Moving to kneel before the prince, Vecchi clutched his hand in supplication. “Don Antonio… I truly beg your forgiveness!”
Lazzara's expression was one of revulsion. “At this moment I cannot contain my disgust of you. You are a disgrace to our family and to our country.” Pulling his hand away, the prince spoke in a lower, more humble voice to Damon. “I must thank you, Lord Wrexham. You have opened my eyes to my cousin's treachery.” He sent Vecchi a glance of loathing. “I could perhaps comprehend his perfidy toward me, but his heinous acts against Lady Eleanora are unforgivable.”
“This is outrageous, sir!” she exclaimed to Signor Vecchi, her voice trembling with fury. “I never realized what a dastardly blackguard you are. You will understand when I say that you are no longer welcome in my home. I demand that you take your leave at once.”
His expression bleak, Vecchi slowly rose to his feet and exited the parlor. Prince Lazzara, after offering profuse apologies to her ladyship, marched determinedly after his cousin.
Lord Haviland caught Damon's eye. “I will make certain Giacomo doesn't decide to flee the premises.”
Damon nodded in agreement. But once the earl had left, his attention returned to Lady Beldon.
She was still trembling, although he suspected her ire had ebbed a measure, only to be replaced by despair.
Taking her elbow, Damon helped the viscountess over to the sofa, where she sank down heavily and lifted her hand to her forehead. Clearly she was shaken enough that she scarcely noticed him.
“May I fetch you something, my lady?” Damon asked. “Wine, perhaps? Or smelling salts?”
Lady Beldon stiffened at the question, then grimaced as if berating herself for showing weakness in front of him.
Drawing a long, shuddering breath then, she eyed Damon haughtily. “I want nothing from you, Wrex-ham. You are in my ill graces once again for bringing pain to my niece.”
Damon leveled a cool look at her. “Pray, just how did I cause your niece pain, Lady Beldon?”
“With your philandering ways, that is how. Elea nor was highly aggrieved to discover you are still consorting with your ladybird.”
A cold chill ran up Damon's spine. Lazzara must have informed Eleanor about his meeting with Lydia immediately after arriving back at Rosemont.
At his reaction, the viscountess's mouth twisted with disdain. “You might at least have had the decency to wait until returning to London instead of carrying on in this wicked fashion. I sincerely hope you will conduct your affairs with more discretion in the future.”
“Where is Eleanor now?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
“Her bedchamber. She meant to leave you this very afternoon and return to London on her own, but I think I persuaded her to hold off for the time being. Her departure in the middle of my house party would only give rise to scandal. I also told her that she would be wise to overlook your dissolution- Wrexham! Where are you going?”
Damon had spun abruptly on his heel and headed for the door.
“I need to speak to her at once,” he threw over his shoulder.
A sinking feeling tightened his gut as Damon strode down the corridor toward the front entrance hall. Eleanor would be hurt and furious if she thought he had betrayed her once again-enough that she might very well leave him.
The thought of losing her made his stomach recoil. He couldn't allow her to leave. Not now, when he finally realized how much she meant to him. How dear she was to him.
His breath seized, forming a hard knot in his throat. He loved Eleanor, deeply and irrevocably. He'd vowed to keep his distance from her, to guard his heart from the pain she could cause him. Then he'd ignored his own warnings. He'd let himself dance with fire, telling himself he wouldn't burn when the flames touched him. Yet all this time he had only deceived himself.
He couldn't be with Eleanor and
If he told her of his feelings now, though, she was unlikely to believe him. On the contrary, she would think he was merely trying to make up for his sins.
Damon hurried his pace, mounting the sweeping staircase three steps at a time. Dread drove him, while one thought kept churning over and over in his mind.
Eleanor would never trust him again. Not when she believed he had broken all his ardent promises of fidelity.
Eleanor's stomach was tied in knots by the time her carriage reached the Boar's Head Inn. When she went inside and inquired after Lord Wrexham, however, the proprietor informed her that his lordship was no longer there.
Relief joined the emptiness and despair and anger warring inside her. She'd desperately hoped she wouldn't find Damon making love to his beautiful mistress. But fortunately or unfortunately, she must have missed him, perhaps because he had ridden cross-country on horseback while she had taken the roads in a carriage.
Eleanor stood for a long moment debating what to do before she finally asked to see Miss Newling. As she followed the innkeep up the wooden stairs to the upper rooms, a dozen chaotic thoughts whirled in her mind. How could she possibly approach the courtesan? With threats? With pleas to keep away from her husband? Or could bribery work to persuade Lydia Newling to leave the district?
And what if she couldn't convince the woman to give up her claim to Damon? Eleanor asked herself with a feeling of panic. Even worse, what if Damon insisted on continuing their liaison?
The very thought was too painful to bear.
She still had not settled on a plan when the proprietor halted before a door to what he said was a private parlor. When Eleanor nodded in dismissal, he bowed and left.
Clammy nerves churned in the pit of her stomach as she hesitated, trying to gather her courage. Deciding it wiser not to show her fear, however, Eleanor took a steadying breath and rapped sharply on the door panel.
When a soft, melodious voice bid entrance, she stepped inside.
Miss Newling had lifted her head, but upon seeing her visitor, her eyes widened in recognition and she sprang to her feet.
“L-Lady Wrexham…” she stammered. “What brings you here?”
Eleanor's heart twisted when she saw the courtesan up close, understanding clearly why Damon would be attracted to the remarkably striking auburn-haired beauty. But she forced herself to offer a cool smile. “I should like to ask the very same of you, Miss New -ling.”
“Th-This is not what you think, my lady.”
“No? How do you know what I think?
“Damon said you would not be happy to learn… I m-mean…” Miss Newling stammered to a halt. Then her gloved hands reached out imploringly. “This is all quite innocent, no matter how it looks. In fact, I was just leaving Brighton-I am waiting for the stage to take me back to London.”
For the first time, Eleanor discerned that Lydia wore a traveling dress, yet the realization did nothing to relieve the pain and dread in her heart. “But you don't deny that you had a rendezvous with my husband?”
“No… I mean, it was not a rendezvous. Not a romantic one, at any event.”
Eleanor's mouth tightened. “Do you honestly think me so gullible?”
