The Sweetest Revenge Page 16

  Her aunt stared at Isabelle over her teacup and then carefully set it down. Her voice was soft as she said, “Your father is long gone, and ye’ve earned your explanation, lass.”

  “My…explanation?” Isabelle was utterly confused.

  “It goes like this: That pompous ass, the Earl of Leothaid, now dead and gone, hopefully burning in hell, I might add, thought his family too high-and-mighty for the likes of us. His youngest brother”—she gave Isabelle a conspiratorial wink—“the one you knew, well, he didna agree with his elder brother’s assessment o’ the matter. That lad was hot on your tail and was about to learn yer da had sent you off to Northumberland.”

  What? Leo had been looking for her? Isabelle’s breaths grew short.

  Aunt Mary continued. “So the rotten auld earl bribed yer da to lie about yer whereabouts, gave him a hundred pounds, I believe, to pass you off for dead. He wanted to stop the lad from pursuin’ you to England.”

  Isabelle blinked. Everything within her felt frozen. She wondered vaguely if her heart continued to beat.

  Could it be true? Had her father truly sold her happiness for a hundred pounds?

  The old woman raised a finger to the ceiling. “The earl told the lad that you’d perished—died in a carriage accident on the way to England.”

  Oh Lord. Isabelle blinked furiously.

  “Oh. My,” she whispered. Leo had thought she was dead.

  If he’d known she lived, if what Aunt Mary was saying was true, he would have come for her. Hope swelled in her chest, swirled in her blood, and made her dizzy.

  She wanted to run out of there, rush to Susan’s house, go down to the cellar. She wanted to see him, to rip off his blindfold, look into his eyes, and demand to know what his intentions had been seven years ago.

  “And ’tis a good thing he told the lad you’d died. That fool became the worst blackguard that ever did exist. His world consists of nothin’ but gambling and whores, whores and gambling. That auld bastard did ye a favor, Isabelle.”

  The words sucked the air out of Isabelle’s lungs, leaving her staggering. Her aunt was right. Leo’s true colors had come out in his adulthood. She mustn’t forget it.

  He had hurt Anna terribly, and he had hurt Susan as well. He had harmed countless other women. For the sake of her friends, she couldn’t forgive him.

  “Aye,” Isabelle murmured into her tea. “I suppose he did do me a favor.”

  Still, some great weight lifted from Isabelle’s shoulders. She felt lighter than she had in years. Tears pricked her eyes.

  All those declarations of love he’d whispered into her ear… Maybe they hadn’t been lies after all.

  ***

  Upon Isabelle’s return to Susan’s house, the lady requested her presence in her sitting room.

  Anna rushed up to hug Isabelle, and Susan looked up, smiled, and closed her book as she entered. “Good afternoon, Iz. How was your meeting with your aunt?”

  Isabelle sat beside Anna on the burgundy silk sofa and told them everything. They listened in openmouthed astonishment.

  “He thought…he thought you were dead?” Anna asked breathlessly.

  Isabelle nodded.

  Susan’s voice rose, whether in excitement or agitation, Isabelle was not sure. “Isabelle, it would explain so much. It explains why he wants to talk to you, why he seems so obsessed with seeing you. Oh, what a shock it must have been for him to realize it was you, risen from the dead.”

  Isabelle gulped, hope cresting like a wave within her. “Do you think it means—does it mean that if he had known I was alive, he would have found me and…and saved me from my fate?”

  “It seems possible,” Susan said softly. “Your aunt did say he attempted to go after you.”

  “Did your aunt tell you anything else?” Anna asked.

  “She spent half an hour reminding me why it was ultimately for the best that Leo never discovered the truth. She labeled him a drunkard, a louse, a blackguard, a dissolute rakehell, a coxcomb, a depraved scoundrel…”

  Susan chuckled. “I gather she’s none too fond of our Lord Leothaid.”

  Isabelle tried to smile. “Nay, she isn’t. Not at all. In fact, I imagine she’d applaud us for shackling him in the cellar.”

  Anna giggled. “We should have included her in our scheme.”

  Susan rose. She paced the room in silence with her hands clasped behind her back for a few moments, then turned to Isabelle and Anna. “In light of what you’ve told us, Iz, I believe I have found the ultimate solution to the problem of Leo.”

  “Wonderful!” Anna exclaimed. “Let’s finish with that exhausting man once and for all. He’s become so tedious.”

  Isabelle shot Anna a glance. How quickly her attention had strayed once she found herself a lover.

  She turned back to Susan. “What is your solution?”

  “Before I propose it to you, I feel I owe you an explanation.”

  Anna frowned. “Of what?”

  Susan gazed at the floor for a long moment before raising her eyes to meet theirs. Her fingers curled and uncurled nervously at her sides. “I ought to tell you what happened between Leo and me.”

  “Oh yes!” Anna clasped her hands before her. “The story in its entirety, please. I only know bits of it, and I’ve pieced it together ever so sloppily. Tell us from beginning to end.”

  Susan stood before them, her bodice rising and falling with every breath. Isabelle realized she was about to expose a chink in her rigidly guarded façade. This must be very difficult for her, but Isabelle could think of no words to make the way easier.

  Susan clutched the high back of the chair beside her. “Leo came to me shortly after my husband died. I knew him as a friend of Henry’s—he had often attended our soirees here in London.” She took a deep breath. “I was a widow and knowledgeable in the ways of men and women, unlike you two. I was fascinated by him, by his reputation, and in my subversive way, I thought I could make an honest man of him. We seduced each other without delay.”

  Anna snorted. “So you were still innocent in some ways, weren’t you, Susie? Was he your first lover after Lord DeLinn died?”

  “Yes, I was innocent in some ways, and yes, he was the first after Henry’s death. It all happened so fast, and I was overwhelmed, and, well, I became… Well, I admit to it—I became smitten with him. He has ways—” She sucked in a breath. “Well, that is beside the point. In any case, we met discreetly a few times, and then I suggested we become exclusive lovers.”

  Anna gasped. “Oh, that was a mistake!”

  Susan shook her head, raising her arms in a helpless gesture. “I wish you were there to inform me of that at the time. But I learned, rather rapidly. He laughed and said he did not believe in exclusivity. He wanted—no ‘needed,’ he said, to have as many lovers as he desired. He required ‘freedom to roam.’”

  Her lips tightened to a flat line. “We argued. I accused him of taking any chit in London pretty enough and willing enough to spread her legs. He told me I was right, and then he…he stripped me and…took me. In this very room. It was…it was—” Susan’s breath caught. “Well, afterward I assumed he would stay, that he had changed his mind. Of course he had not. When he left, he was still laughing, and I…I wept.”

  She bowed her head, as if shedding a tear over a man was akin to admitting the most humbling defeat.

  “I never saw him again after that.” She raised defiant eyes. “I never wept again after that.”

  The sounds of Susan’s shallow breaths cut through the room. Isabelle didn’t know what to say.

  Though Susan had been a widow, Leo had stolen a part of her innocence. He had tainted her understanding of love. He was responsible for the barrier she had erected around her heart.

  A deep sadness descended over Isabelle. After what Leo had done to Susan, it was unlikely she would ever find love again. To protect herself from the pain it could cause, she had barricaded herself too strongly against it.

  “Arrogant
ass,” muttered Anna after a moment. “I could shoot him. If I were a man, I’d call him out. Do you want me to ask Thomas to do it for you, Susie?”

  Susan clasped her arms across her chest. “Heavens, no! Can you imagine? Thomas and Leo dueling over me? Ridiculous. In any case, we’re managing Leo on our own.”

  Anna nudged Isabelle with her shoulder. “What do you think, Iz?”

  Isabelle spoke slowly. “I think he is a repulsive, odious man. He should pay for what he did to you, Susan, and for what he did to Anna.”

  “And what about what he did to you?” Susan’s words were cool, guarded.

  Isabelle met the other woman’s eyes. “But now we know that what he did to me wasn’t deliberate.”

  “Just the result of his evil brother’s machinations,” Anna said.

  Isabelle sighed heavily. “Nay. He wasn’t evil. He just did what he felt was best at the time. He wanted Leo to marry someone with an English title and a fat dowry to add to their family fortunes. Leo was a third son. He needed to acquire a rich wife. If I was the earl, I wouldn’t have wanted Leo pursuing me either.”

  “You are far too saintly,” Anna murmured. “If he was still alive, I’d call him out. If I was a man, of course.”

  Susan arched her eyebrows. “Would you choose pistols, fists, or swords?”

  “Pistols, of course. I have never handled one, but I know I’d be a brilliant shot.”

  Susan sat in the chair opposite them and regarded Isabelle with her calm, dark eyes. “Then you no longer have any reason to seek revenge on Leo, do you?”

  Was Susan testing her?

  “But I do have many reasons to seek revenge,” Isabelle said. “I despise him for what he became. I loathe him for what he did to you, Susan, and I hate him for what he did to Anna. Those are unforgivable acts. You and Anna are my closest friends in the world. I would call him out. Twice. Once for each of you.”

  Anna beamed. “And which weapon would you choose, Iz?”

  Isabelle pretended to consider. “Well, certainly not fists. He is much larger than me, after all. Swords, I think. Like you, I’ve never held a pistol, but I’ve hefted a sword once or twice.”

  She was joking, but inside a terrible pain ate at her. Since she’d learned the truth from her aunt, she couldn’t stop wishing she had a magical dial to turn back time. She would have found some way to communicate with him. They would have a chance.

  At least she might have been able to stop him from hurting Susan and Anna.

  But now it was too late. He had changed, become something unconscionable. They could never rebuild the purity of what they once had.

  She took a deep, pained breath. What use was it to focus on what could not be? It was best to focus on the present and the future.

  She pictured her old bedroom in the house that was now her uncle’s, where she spent most of her time. In Scotland, she knitted. Sometimes, she went for long walks and befriended the sheep.

  She hardly spoke, for nobody was eager to engage in conversation with her. Uncle Ewan was a somber man of few words. Aunt Una had taken ill two years ago. She’d never been an easy woman, but the sickness had stolen away every bit of kindness out of her. They had no children, and the few friends who visited knew of Isabelle’s shame and hardly noted her existence.

  No, she shouldn’t focus on the future. Her future looked…bleak. She would focus only on the present, on her friends. On their revenge.

  “Are you certain you are still with us?” Susan asked.

  Isabelle met her friend’s gaze evenly. “Absolutely certain.”

  “I ask because the solution I propose will not be easy.”

  “I understand.”

  “It will test your strength and your loyalty.”

  “Do you not believe you possess my loyalty, Susan?”

  “Of course she is loyal to us.” Anna reached for her hand and clasped it. “We are Isabelle’s dearest friends, as she is ours. If we did not trust one another with our very lives, we would not share our deepest secrets as we do.”

  “Do we share our deepest secrets?” Susan’s gaze fixed on Isabelle.

  “We do.” Isabelle squeezed Anna’s hand. “I have never denied a certain attraction for Leo. But if you fear I would sacrifice you for his benefit, then you are sorely mistaken. I would never betray you. Never.”

  She spoke truth. Susan and Anna had given her their friendship, and she would never compromise that gift. Not even for a man she desired.

  They held one another’s gazes for a long moment, and then Susan smiled. “I did not believe so, Isabelle. But as I said, this will be an ultimate test. I do not mean to deliberately test you, but I believe it is the best way to show Leo exactly what he has done, to make him feel how each of us has felt. I believe that after we have finished with him, he will know better than to tamper with women.”

  “Any woman?” Anna grinned. “Oh, do tell. I want to be the one to say, ‘I was the one who cured the most famous rake of his depraved, degenerate, and dissolute ways.’”

  “It all hinges on you, Isabelle,” Susan said.

  Isabelle took a deep breath. “What must I do?”

  “Leo has changed in the days since he learned your identity. He has become—well, how would you describe him, Anna?”

  “Obsessed,” Anna said instantly.

  “Obsessed, yes. He’s become single-minded, certainly. Even more difficult to talk to than he was at the beginning. Short-tempered.”

  “Surely that must have more to do with the length of his confinement?” Isabelle asked.

  “Perhaps. But he wants you. Nothing else will suffice. He believes you to be his savior. It is almost as if he imagines you as some angel, come back from the dead to rescue him from the cruelty of Lady M and the wicked ways of Mistress Jane.”

  Anna snorted. “Exactly.”

  Isabelle thought of Leo down in the cellar, picturing her as frozen in time, a haloed young girl come to rescue him. “I am no angel.”

  “Oh, but you are wrong, Iz,” Anna said. “You are much more agreeable than I’ll ever be.”

  “For my plan to work, you must remember your years of loneliness,” Susan said.

  “I could never forget them.” Isabelle bit her lip, remembering the first time she’d laid eyes on Leo in the cellar, how drawn she’d been to him, how quickly she would have forgotten everything if he’d only beckoned.

  But she was wiser now. Learning Anna’s and Susan’s stories had strengthened her. She was no longer the sheltered lass with a memory of being loved once and abandoned forever. For the first time in her life, she felt like a mature woman, with a bona fide suitor and real, lifelong friends. This experience had given her a newfound confidence and strength.

  She looked up at Susan. “Tell me what I must do.”

  “You must go to Leo.”

  Isabelle nodded.

  “You must talk to him. Make him believe that you come in secret.”

  “Lie to him?”

  “Yes, Isabelle.”

  “Very well. What then?”

  “Then you must seduce him.”

  Isabelle’s hand flew to her throat in a vain attempt to stifle the strangled sound erupting from it.

  “But let him think he is the one doing the seducing. Don’t allow him to believe you are aggressive like Mistress Jane, or cold like Lady M. Be yourself. It will require more than one visit to the cellar. Each time, mention how you are betraying Lady M and Mistress Jane, but how you cannot help yourself, you must see him.”

  Isabelle licked her dry lips. The lacy edge of her bodice tickled her hand as she ran her fingers over it.

  Susan continued. “You must never let him see you, Isabelle. Keep him in the dark. Finally, at the end, you must complete your seduction by joining with him.”

  “Nay!” she gasped.

  “Oh, don’t be so missish.” Anna prodded her on the shoulder. “You want him, he wants you, what’s the bother?”

  Isabelle stared at the
fire. Anna made it sound so simple. But it was more than that, so much more. Shudders rolled through her body.

  “This is the way to finish this at last,” Susan said softly. “I did not know whether he was redeemable, but now we have learned his weakness: you. One night with you and I am certain he’ll comprehend how he has wronged us. He’ll be cured. We will send him home.”

  Anna’s arm slipped around her shaking shoulders. “Goodness, one would think she’s ordering you to murder the man. No, just one simple night of pleasure. I know it was a long time ago, but you certainly must remember pleasure with Leo, Iz. You need it, you really do. It will help you to survive once you’re back in Scotland.”

  Or it might just kill her.

  “It likely seems impossible now, sitting here with us, but when the time comes, it will seem as natural as breathing.”

  Isabelle blinked at the fire. Susan was right, of course. Whenever she was with Leo, she felt overpowering urges. Unnatural, wicked urges. Urges that could only lead to complete disaster.

  “Susie’s right,” Anna said. “When you’re with a man you lust after—for that’s what it is, Isabelle, is it not?—when you’re with someone you lust after, it is easy to give yourself over to that lust.”

  “True,” Susan said, “but that is not the difficult part.”

  Isabelle groaned. “What is the difficult part, then?”

  “The difficult part comes afterward. You must laugh and walk away.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Leo dreamed of Belle. He awoke thinking of her. He tried to read the book Lady M had loaned him, and could only apply everything its jaded author had written to Belle. Mrs. Wollstonecraft pigeonholed her sex into a group that society valued only for its youth and wit and beauty. But Belle was different. When he had known her, she had not depended on wiles or wit, on coquetry or deception. Her attractiveness had been pure, unwitting, and she reacted to her own appeal with something akin to embarrassment.

  When his hands were unbound, he straightened his shirt and smoothed his trousers, washing a soiled spot on them from his basin of water. In case she came.

  Please, Belle. Please. Come to me.