The Merry Widow Read online

  Phillipa didn’t look at Viscount Bellomont as he made the obligatory introductions. Instead, she dropped into a deep curtsy, regained her footing, and focused her attention on Lady Sarah Willoughby. Unlike many women of her station, she didn’t give the impression of being insipid or taciturn. Instead, she seemed positively genial and her eyes contained a surprising spark of intelligence.

  Phillipa said, “It is a pleasure to meet you, my lady.”

  “My pleasure as well, Mrs. Jones. However, I do think an apology is order for my cousin’s rudeness. I can tell by the expression on your face that you were not expecting me. And normally, I never drop in on anyone uninvited. But he absolutely insisted I accompany him.”

  Phillipa could not look over at Reggie, and she thought he was also not looking at her. “Your—your cousin?”

  “Reggie, do stop being a poltroon and get us some wine.” Lady Sarah gave a tinkling laugh and pushed him towards the wine table. “He didn’t tell you that, did he? No wonder you look so pole-axed! Yes, I am his cousin. And you must be the reason I’m here.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “He told me,” Lady Sarah said, her voice dropping conspiratorially, “that if I came here with him, I could meet the woman who’d stolen his heart.”

  Phillipa felt the room spin around her. “I stole his heart?”

  Lady Sarah turned to gaze at her cousin, who was pouring a glass of wine. “So he says. And his heart is something he usually keeps rather close to his chest.”

  Phillipa gave a brief smile at this witticism. But as Reggie approached, glass in hand, she said coldly and loudly enough for him to hear, “Well, I don’t believe it. In fact, I wasn’t aware he had a heart. For it seems to have been replaced with his wallet.”

  “Oh, touché.” Lady Sarah clapped her fan against her open palm in amusement. “It seems she knows you all too well, dear cousin.”

  Before Phillipa could react, Lady Sarah stepped forward and linked arms with her. Taken back by such intimacy, she didn’t protest when the younger woman led her to a corner of the drawing room, leaving Reggie to his own devices.

  “I know my cousin can be rather cold,” Lady Sarah offered solicitously. “But he does have a heart, truly, although he doesn’t give it freely.”

  Indignant, Phillipa whirled on the other woman. “Pardon me, Lady Sarah, but he is the son of an earl and sole proprietor of the largest shipping company in the Grand Surrey Docks! And he has orchestrated this to attain even more wealth by taking over my business!”

  Lady Sarah sighed. “Well, as to that, he does not need me to defend himself. Ah! I believe your housekeeper is calling us to dinner. Although I’m watching my figure, I’m famished.”

  Phillipa’s guests paired off to begin the traditional procession into dinner. And to her horror, the only available escort was Viscount Bellomont, his cousin having accepted the escort of one of the younger sea captains. Although Phillipa would have rather pulled teeth than consent to Reggie’s escort, she knew she could not refuse him without exciting comment. Seething inwardly, she managed to project a serene demeanor as she accepted his arm. Yet she tensed when he leaned towards her.

  He said in a low voice, “Although you may think I might have used you, believe me when I tell you that what occurred between you and me had nothing to do with my wallet or your business.”

  “Please, Lord Bellomont,” she replied through gritted teeth. “Do not make this harder than it currently is. I will be cordial for the rest of the evening. But after tonight, I do not want to see you again.”

  “You can’t mean that, ma petite fille—”

  “Don’t call me that! I forbid you.”

  He drew back. His voice was still low, but harsh. “You forbid? You do remember what I told you in the carriage today. When you were riding my cock.”

  Phillipa faltered slightly at the mention of their afternoon dalliance. Thankfully, he was there to prevent her from falling. But instead of setting her to rights on her own two feet, he pulled her against him. He lowered his head so that his lips grazed the top of her ear.

  “I see you do remember our afternoon affair.” He chuckled wickedly. “Then you also remember how I warned you that after today no other man would be allowed to rest between your thighs or taste your lips. You belong to me, ma petite fille, and I will never let you go.”

  She couldn’t help it. A thrill ran through her at his words. But she had to be strong. The moment they entered the formal dining room, she broke away from him. In vain. Before she could take her seat, he’d come up behind her, pulled out her chair, and taken the seat directly to her left. Obviously Bea had figured out he was her “special guest” and set his place card there, as well as arranging the additional service for Lady Sarah.

  Phillipa gritted her teeth in annoyance. As hostess she would be required to engage him in conversation. In an attempt to forestall the inevitable, she concentrated her efforts on draping her napkin on her lap, perusing the dinner menu, and fiddling with the extensive place setting.

  Unfortunately, she could not keep this up for long. There were only so many things at the dinner table to fuss with. Surprisingly enough, Reggie didn’t force himself on her person. Instead, he engaged Captain Brightman in a lively conversation about buggy racing, an interest they shared.

  Although most of the evening passed uneventfully, she sighed in relief as the final meat course was removed. Soon an iced pudding would be served, followed by coffee, liqueurs and sparkling water. After that, she and the other women would retire to the drawing room, leaving the men to enjoy their glasses of port. Blessedly, not long after the groups came together again, the evening would be over.

  Before dessert the table was cleared of everything, including the tablecloth. This tradition had always amused Phillipa. For some reason the frivolous revealing of a highly polished dinner table always left one’s guests awestruck, resulting in an unusual quiet.

  Unfortunately, Reggie took this opportunity to engage her in conversation. And what he said was typically outrageous. “So, have you informed your staff that before the week is out, you will be a married woman once again?”

  Phillipa felt all eyes swing in her direction. She could not meet any of them. As the blood rushed to her head, she centered her attention somewhere between Reggie’s head and the top button of his dinner shirt. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said frigidly.

  “Oh, Reggie!” Lady Sarah exclaimed. “Why, this is splendid news. I will definitely have to include this in my forthcoming article. And here I was having trouble coming up with something delicious for my readers.”

  Phillipa’s blood grew cold. Lady Sarah couldn’t mean—

  “Yer article?” Lucy asked.

  The lady looked around. Presumably seeing no one who frequented her circles enough to gossip effectively, she lowered her voice. “My article in the Evening Marlborough. I write under the name Lady Cherbourg.”

  At least, Phillipa thought, this revelation—one she preferred not to believe—had the effect of diverting attention from Reggie’s absurd announcement. All eyes shifted from Phillipa to Lady Sarah, for it wasn’t every day that one dined with someone who’d practically turned London on its ear for revealing the debauchery of the upper classes.

  Lady Sarah smiled graciously as several of the guests, primarily the men, bombarded her with questions. Phillipa, on the other hand, gripped her chair for support. It felt as if her head were spinning out of control! Yet it was hardly any surprise, considering the blood had reversed its rush and was now draining from all her extremities.

  “So tell me, dear cousin, do you truly plan to wed by the end of the week?” Lady Sarah asked. “How do you plan to carry off such a feat without calling the banns?”

  “It will be simple enough to manage,” Reggie said coolly. “I will procure a special license to marry from the Archbishop of Canterbury.”

  “I wouldn’t count on that,” Phillipa said, her voice sharp. “Considering
the exploits detailed by the Evening Marlborough, please don’t expect us to believe you have the ear of the Archbishop.”

  She tensed when he turned his head in her direction and his brown eyes pinned her to the spot.

  “You should not believe everything you see in print,” he said. “Although I sowed wild oats a time or two as a youth, I also served as an acolyte while the Archbishop was still the chancellor of Lincoln Minister. Because of him I even considered becoming a man of the cloth.”

  “But he became a rake instead,” Lady Willoughby said, chortling.

  “I was a rake,” Reggie corrected. “I’ve never had a desire to marry, until now.”

  “What about the company?” Mr. Harald asked, his face etched with worry.

  Phillipa opened her mouth, but once again someone superseded her. “No need to fret about your job, Mr. Harald. As you all well know, by law Mrs. Jones will be able to retain control over her holdings after we wed. However, I have decided that B & T Limited will cease to exist once become a married man. I will fold all of my holdings into The Jones Maritime Shipping Line. I feel my fiancé has done such a stellar job running her own business that I welcome taking a secondary role.”

  Phillipa was as stunned as her guests at his revelation. It was unheard of for a husband to give up right of ownership upon marriage, let alone play second fiddle to his wife. And it sounded rather like he had given this matter serious consideration, as if he actually meant to follow through.

  “Why, that’s mad, your lordship!” Mr. Hadley protested. “A married woman’s place is in the home.”

  Reggie chuckled. “It’s not so mad, Mr. Hadley. Our own Queen Victoria has successfully held the reins of our fair country for more than fifty years. Moreover, I don’t think we would have become the global power we are today without her shrewd council.”

  Phillipa rolled her eyes as “God Save the Queen” rippled around the table.

  “Well, I think the idea is not only revolutionary, but romantic as well!” Lady Sarah beamed. “Please let me be the first to express my congratulations for your upcoming nuptials.”

  As a round of congratulations went around the table, Phillipa felt a wave of nausea sweep over her. Afraid she would make a fool of herself in front of her guests, she decided to call it an early evening.

  “Excuse me, everyone, I’ve suddenly found myself under the weather, so I must bid you good night. However, I ask that you remain and partake of the rest of tonight’s dinner. If you don’t, I fear Bea will ring my neck for ruining all of her hard work.”

  As Phillipa made a move to stand, Reggie jumped up and helped her with her chair. “I will see you to the stairs.”

  Gritting her teeth in anger, she took his arm and allowed him to escort her from the dining room. As soon as they were beyond earshot of her guests, she rounded on him. “Your escort is no longer needed nor wanted, Lord Bellomont.”

  “Phillipa, I—”

  “Stow it!” Her blood boiled over at the implications of his actions. “Regardless what this may do to my reputation, I will not participate in your pretense. I will not allow myself to be manipulated, under my own roof no less, and by someone who does not carry any real affection for me.” She withdrew her arm from his. “After tonight, this acquaintance will cease to exist.”

  With her head held high, she turned on her heels and proceeded to climb the stairs, leaving him alone in the foyer. But even as she rounded the corner to her room, she felt his hot, hurt stare on her back.

  The Merry Widow: Chapter 8

  “Good morning, everyone!” Phillipa beamed cheerfully as she entered her office. For the first time in over a week, she was in better spirits, and her life was returning to normal. Of course, Viscount Bellomont had been turned away from her house on a daily basis, along with his twice-a-day delivery of purple hyacinths. And he’d been dissuaded from making any more appearances at her place of business by the burly fisticuffs expert she’d hired to guard her front stoop. But other than that, she’d escaped his acquaintance with her reputation blessedly intact.

  As she crossed the office, her steps slowed. William and Charles were scrambling for their respective stations. While they returned her “Good Morning,” Lucy swiped the newspaper under her bottom and sat on it.

  Eyeing them all suspiciously, Phillipa walked over to Lucy’s desk. “What are you hiding?”

  Lucy eyed the others, but finding no help from that quarter, she addressed her employer. question. “Trust me, Mrs. Jones, you don’t want to know.”

  The hackles on the back of Phillipa’s neck stood on end. “Let me see,” she insisted, holding her hand out to the younger woman.

  Lucy sighed heavily as she rose and withdrew the newspaper. But before handing it over, she laid it against her bosom and rubbed her open palm over it in an attempt to smooth it. Satisfied, she then handed the paper to her employer.

  Phillipa instantly recognized the twelve-page thick Evening Marlborough. In its fourth year, the evening paper was very popular with the general populace due to its many illustrations, which far outweighed any actual journalism.

  Despite her otherwise stoic expression, her hands shook as she quickly scanned the front page. And there it was, the headline that proved she was now the laughingstock of all London. Viscount of Equine Finally Tamed by the Merry Widow of Grand Surrey Docks?

  Once she’d finished reading the article, she folded the paper neatly and slid it under her arm. She then retraced her footsteps, stopping short of opening the door. “Please hold all callers, Lucy.”

  “For how long, Mrs. Jones?”

  “However how long it will take to geld a certain Viscount of Equine.”

  ***

  Phillipa walked up to the young man sitting behind the half-moon desk in the reception area of B&T Shipping LTD. “Is Lord Bellomont here?”

  “Mrs. Jones, I presume.” At her stiff nod, he continued. “Lord Bellomont has informed told me I should look out for you. If you will excuse me….” He quickly disappeared behind a pair of double doors and returned with equal speed. “Lord Bellomont will see you now,” he announced, stepping to one side.

  Phillipa bolstered her resolve by tightening her hand on the newspaper. She then squared her shoulders and strode past him into his employer’s office. Upon entering, her eyes immediately sought him. And to her dismay, when he slowly rose to greet her, her body reacted like a whore on holiday. Her nipples hardened, her underpants suddenly chaffed, and her palms fairly itched to touch him.

  Thankfully he spoke first, because she’d lost all capacity to do so.

  “Good morning, Phillipa. I can guess the reason for your visit, for I am both surprised and appalled by my cousin’s audacity—”

  “You’re surprised and appalled?” Phillipa countered, emerging from her punch-drunk haze. “At least you’re not the laughingstock of London! All you’ll receive is a pat on the back. I am ruined!”

  “Well, there’s only one thing that can be done to repair the situation,” he replied softly.

  “And what is that?” she asked, her interest piqued. “Are you going to ask for a retraction?”

  “No.”

  She tensed when he came around his desk to stand in front of her. Although she was a tall woman, she had to crane her neck back to look at his face. Affected by his nearness, she took a precautionary step away.

  He said, “You can simply prove her correct. Marry me, Phillipa. Tame me. Make me yours.”

  “Marry you?” She stared at him. “Blessed Jove, I was right! Your masquerade, the dinner party, and now this newspaper article were all schemes! You brought your dear cousin along, not to simply meet me, but for insurance! You left me no choice but to go through with your manipulations!” She shook her head. “I knew you were a cutthroat businessman, but I cannot believe you would go this far to marry someone just to get hold of her company.”

  She gasped when he grabbed her arms and began to shake her.

  “Blasted woman! Why ca
n’t you get it through your thick skull that this no longer has anything to do with business?”

  She stumbled backwards when he suddenly released her and began to pace in front of her.

  He muttered, “I will admit that my pursuit did begin with an ulterior purpose. But ever since the evening when a beautiful siren tempted me in nothing but a lavender dressing gown, I’ve been consumed with nothing else. Don’t you see you helped me to heal?”

  Phillipa’s breath caught in her throat when he captured her hands in his.

  “You healed… this,” he whispered, drawing her hand upwards and placing it over his heart. “For the first time in my life, I have felt one with another. What I’m trying to say, ma petite fille, is that I’m in love with you.”

  She tensed when he lowered his head, knowing the instant he pressed his lips against her own, all her good judgment and reasoning would fly through the window. His lips were like a potent elixir or drug. And his irresistible cache of licking, nibbling, and sucking was always her undoing. Even now, she groaned as he expertly brought her body to life with a simple kiss.

  But that wasn’t completely true. There was nothing simple about Reggie or his kisses.

  Phillipa’s eyes shuttered closed while he bombarded her senses, his hands skimming over the rise of her buttocks. Then to her surprise, he cupped them and drew her to him so that she felt the hard press of his manhood against her belly. Against her will, she thirsted for more.

  Doubtless sensing this, he picked her up and carried her to the desk.

  “What are you doing?” she asked when he set her down and pushed her backward.

  “I’m going to do,” he said grimly, “what we both want, ma petite fille.” His hands moved over her skirts and lifted them until they rested around her hips. He pulled her legs apart and stepped between. She gasped when he rotated his hips in a stroking fashion.