Belle met Violette on the stairs, and the young woman gasped as Belle approached.
“Oh, Belle,” she said with deep approval. “My word, you do look lovely.”
Belle smiled, as her heart kicked up speed. She could only hope that Edward would notice. Though, of course, he never dined with them, so it was unlikely, and she could not decide for the life of her whether she was pleased about that, or not.
Chapter 22
“Wherein our contestants take to the ring.”
“Do stop fidgeting,” Charlie scolded as he fought to rescue the mangled neck cloth that was draped around Edward’s neck. For the life of him, Edward could not understand why he was going to the bother of dressing for dinner when he could just as easily have something sent to his room and be left in peace. However.
His errant wife had returned, and he wasn’t going to lose the opportunity to put her in her place. Why he was so annoyed, he couldn’t quite put his finger on. After all, he had wanted her to understand that they weren’t to live in each other’s pockets, that she must have interests of her own, and not be forever under his feet. He certainly didn’t care about her spending money on new clothes: he had; after all, instructed Violette to make sure she did just that. He certainly couldn’t have his wife going about it in some of the shabby items he’d seen her wear to date. But that she’d just left on the morning after ... and without a word. Well, it was unseemly.
A slither of guilt crept into his mind as the recurring idea that she might have been hurt by the way he’d left her bed in the early hours of the morning came back to haunt him. He frowned and pushed the thought away. No need to feel guilty about that. There was simply no point in letting her believe any romantic nonsense would exist between them. It would only hurt her more in the end, when she realised he was incapable of such tenderness. Some unidentified feeling rose at that, though, and it took him a moment to realise it was regret. He regretted many things about the past, but he had forgotten what it was to care for another’s happiness. Violette’s, perhaps, yes, but he’d been caring for her for so long that that was as much habit as anything.
Now he realised that he didn’t want to make Belle unhappy, and regretted the fact that it was inevitable. Edward had never intended to live the kind of life his parents had, where the two of them could barely stand to be in the same room together. But he could give her nothing more, and, after all, that was the way of things.
“There, not too shabby, if I do say so myself,” Charlie said, giving Edward a nod of satisfaction and picking up a clothes brush to give his elegant coat his attention.
“Oh, that will do,” Edward replied, moving away with a scowl. “Did you say Lady Russell stayed in Bath?” he demanded, thinking that at least the evening held one bright spot.
“I did,” Charlie said, with a twinkle in his eyes. “An’ Lady Sinclair an’ Mr Russell. It’ll just be you, Lady Winterbourne, Miss Lucretia, and Violette dining tonight.” Charlie grinned at him. “A rose between three thorns,” he quipped, and then cleared his throat hurriedly as Edward scowled at him. “Just larkin’ about, my lord.”
Edward grunted and left the room.
From the laughter awaiting him, it was clear that the ladies had already gathered. That his presence had not been expected was clear by the silence that fell over the room as he entered.
Violette was the first to recover, walking over to greet him. “Eddie! How lovely of you to join us. We shall be a jolly party with just the four of us!” Edward threw his sister a sceptical look, but Violette ploughed on. “Now, you must come and see how beautiful your wife looks.”
Belle had been standing with her back to him when he entered, and as Violette had greeted him, he’d not really had the chance to look at her at all.
He did now.
“Hello, Edward,” she said, her voice soft and just a little wary. There was caution in her expression, too, a guarded look as she obviously wondered what kind of reception she was going to get. Edward had been quite certain of how he was going to treat her return. He had intended to be coolly polite and to keep her at the distance he meant her to stay at.
His plan crumbled before his eyes.
She’d done something different to her hair, he wasn’t sure what exactly, but it was softer now, falling around her face with a few artful curls tumbling to one shoulder. Her shoulders were bare and the neckline of the dress showed a lovely expanse of creamy white skin, the curve of her generous breasts swelling against the midnight blue satin.
Edward swallowed as the night he’d spent with her returned to him with devastating clarity. Desire burned under his skin, and suddenly he wished Violette and Lucretia would leave them be. He wanted to be alone with his wife.
“Perhaps we should go through,” Belle said, her voice taut and disappointment in her eyes. He realised he must have simply been staring at her, and had not said a word about how lovely she looked, about anything. Going on the twin looks of disgust he was receiving from Violette and Lucretia, his expression had in no way reflected his thoughts. On the one hand - thank God - but on the other, he had clearly hurt his wife’s feelings, and that feeling of remorse crept up once more and hung about his neck like a weight.
Dinner was appalling. Oh, the food had been exquisite as ever, Puddy never let them down, but the atmosphere was taut. After several attempts to draw him into conversation with no success, the women just carried on as if he weren’t there.
He should have been relieved; after all, he didn’t want to converse. However, a simmering irritation slid under his skin, and he couldn’t for the life of him understand why.
All through the meal, his attention was focused solely on Belle, though he was careful not to look her way too often. He had known she was beautiful, of course. He had not been blinded by Lucretia’s beauty for long. Other men might be dazzled by her and overlook her sister, but Edward had noticed well enough. But even so, now he realised he’d been blind.
He wanted this interminable meal to be over so that he could take her to bed. Though heaven knew she wasn’t looking upon him with anything but disappointment at the moment, so good luck with that, he muttered to himself.
Finally, they were done, and the women wished him a good night and went up to bed. Usually, they might sit and talk or play cards of an evening, but clearly everyone was keen to escape him. He could hardly blame them.
Edward waited until he was sure everyone had closed their bedroom doors and hurried upstairs. He gave a curt knock before walking into Belle’s room.
She turned, clearly startled, staring at him in shock. Her maid gave her a panicked look, and Belle returned a nervous little smile.
“That will be all, thank you, Mary.”
Mary bobbed a curtsey and escaped as fast as she was able.