Bella and the Beast (34 page)

Spurred by alarm, he sprinted down the long corridor. An intruder had seized hold of her. She appeared to be struggling with him.

Miles lunged, yanking the assailant away from her. A man, judging by his size and build. He stripped away the pale sheet that draped the fellow.

Then he swung his fist into her attacker's jaw, connecting with a satisfying crack. Uttering a strangled cry, the man staggered backward and fell, then cowered on the floor, whimpering. In a fury, Miles reached down to grab him and stopped in shock. Through the darkness, he recognized those frightened features.

He was gazing at his cousin, Oscar Grayson.

 

Chapter 25

Bella gripped the dagger that she had been holding to Oscar's throat when the duke had appeared from out of nowhere. “For heaven's sake, Miles! What are
you
doing here?”

“More to the point, why is he here?” Miles growled, standing guard over his cousin. “And why was he covered in a sheet while attacking you?”

“He wasn't attacking me,” she said irritably. “
I
had attacked
him
in order to stop him from trying to frighten me.”

She had been hiding in the linen closet for the better part of an hour, peering out the narrow opening of the door and waiting for the specter to make an appearance. Right about the time she normally came upstairs after work, the figure had stepped out of the servants' staircase and glided toward her bedchamber.

Bella had crept out and pounced on him from behind. When she had put the knife to his throat, he'd yelped in alarm. She had warned him not to move lest he die a bloody death. That was when Miles had come barreling out of the darkness to ruin her capture.

“Frighten you?” Miles asked in a sharp tone of confusion. “For what purpose?”

Bella told him about the sightings she and Nan had had of a wraithlike form. “I believe he and Mrs. Grayson had hoped to scare me into leaving Aylwin House.”

“The devil you say!” Reaching down, Miles seized his cousin by the scruff of the neck. “Come,” he snapped. “We need to have a talk in a place where there's light.”

“Ouch!” Oscar sniveled. “That hurts!”

All of a sudden, another ghostly figure came swooping out of the darkness of the servants' staircase. It was Helen, her pale aqua skirts rustling. “Release him at once,” she cried out. “You have no right to manhandle my husband.”

“Count yourself fortunate that I don't manhandle you, as well,” Miles retorted.

Ignoring her outraged huff, he marched Oscar forward, and Bella darted ahead to open the door to her bedchamber. “In here,” she said. “The fire is lit.”

She had sent Nan away a while ago, not wanting the servant girl to witness the altercation out in the corridor. Miles dragged his cousin inside, grabbed a straight-backed chair and planted it in the middle of the rug, then thrust Oscar down onto it.

Helen scurried to her husband's side, sinking down to croon over him. His wavy dark hair was a wild mess from the sheet he'd worn. A trickle of blood dripped from the side of his mouth and she dabbed it with her handkerchief.

Bella slipped the dagger back into the pocket of her gown. Then she lit the wick of a candle at the fire and went around the room, lighting all the tapers. She was rather irritated at the turn of events, for she had not meant to trigger a family squabble. She had only wanted to give Oscar a severe warning that would make him regret the phony hauntings that had terrified her maidservant.

“You struck him!” Helen accused, glaring up at Miles from her crouched position beside Oscar's chair. “Your own cousin and heir!”

“He deserved that and more for what he did to Bella,” Miles asserted. “Though I would venture to guess it was
you
who came up with this harebrained scheme for him to play a ghost.”

Helen pursed her lips. “Miss Jones doesn't belong in the household of a duke. She's a foreigner and a conniver and I warned you from the start that she was maneuvering you for her own enrichment.”

“And better
you
should maneuver me?” Miles asked in an ironic tone. “That's what this is all about. You're afraid that I might wed Bella and sire a son, thus thwarting your chance to become a duchess.”

“What about me?” Oscar put in, glaring up at Miles. “
I
deserve to be the sixth duke. It is my right!”

Miles snorted. “Bollocks. No scheme of yours could ever stop me from marrying whomever I choose.”

Bella wasn't fooled by his insinuation that he might offer for her. Miles was merely using her as a pawn to hammer Oscar and Helen. And she'd had quite enough of being discussed as if she weren't even present in the room.

“No one is marrying anyone,” she stated. “In fact, it should make all of you happy to learn that I shall be departing from Aylwin House on the morrow. As soon as His Grace pays me the salary that I am owed.”

Everyone's attention swung to her. Oscar wore a nasty grin on his battered face, Helen a triumphant smile, and Miles an intense, unreadable stare. The duke opened his mouth as if to voice a response, than set his jaw and remained silent.

Bella felt a twist of pain that he would not even protest her announcement. But of course, Miles believed her to be a husband hunter, too, just as Helen did. He had made his views on the matter perfectly clear only a few hours ago.

She turned to Helen. “You took a packet of letters out of my bedside table several days ago. After you read them, you tossed them beneath my bed to make me think that I'd dropped them there.”

Helen laughed. “Nonsense. You've no proof of that.”

That superior, gloating smile convinced Bella that she was right. Helen was exactly the sort who would read stolen letters in the hopes of gaining fodder for her schemes. The idea of her nosing through this private bedchamber made Bella feel violated.

His expression hard, Miles took a step toward Helen and Oscar. “Did either of you go to Bella's cottage in Oxford and search through her father's papers?”

This time, Helen looked blank. “Oxford? Why would we travel to such a provincial place in the midst of the season?”

“And to a cottage, no less!” Oscar added with a rusty chortle. “I must say, it is not surprising to learn that Miss Jones would spring from such a rough abode. She's a savage who drew a knife on me—”

“That is quite enough,” Miles barked. “You've insulted Bella for the last time. I want you two out of here at once.”

“We've only tried to protect you, Miles,” Helen said, rising to her feet and putting her hand on her husband's shoulder. “And in return, you struck poor Oscar in such an unsporting manner.”

Oscar endeavored to appear woebegone by putting a hand to his injured face and moaning.

“Get out this instant,” Miles thundered, pointing at the door. “If either of you dares to set foot in Aylwin House again without my express permission, I'll cut off your allowance entirely.”

Abandoning the wounded act, Oscar hopped up from the chair. “Come, my darling. We needn't stay and be insulted.”

He and Helen linked arms, and with a disgruntled glance at Bella, they marched out of the bedchamber. Miles stalked after them, stopping in the doorway with his hands on his hips to watch their retreat down the darkened corridor.

As he came back inside and shut the door, Bella felt a rush of untimely desire heat her insides. She had only ever seen the duke wearing informal work attire. Tonight, he looked extraordinarily handsome in a dark blue coat over a white shirt and starched cravat.

Surely he wouldn't have dressed up just to visit
her.

“Are you going out?” she asked coolly. “Don't let me keep you.”

He stopped in the middle of the rug, his gaze concentrated on her. “I've no plans for the evening other than to speak to you.”

Her heartbeat lurched at the husky note in his voice. She was keenly aware that they were alone. Miles seemed larger, more intimidating than ever, yet she wanted to fly straight into his arms and rest her head in the crook of his neck, to let his strength ease the pain that tangled her insides.

But that would only confirm his mistaken belief that she had come to Aylwin House to trap him into marriage. He would think she was trying to bamboozle him.

He took a step closer. “Those two won't bother you ever again,” he said. “But blast it, Bella, you should have told me they were playing a trick on you. I'm responsible for whatever happens under this roof.”

“I wasn't entirely certain it was them,” she countered. “Besides, I was handling the situation quite well on my own. There was no need for you to rescue me.”

He looked as if ready to argue the point, then his expression eased, his mouth twisting wryly. “You're a very capable woman, especially with that dagger. Nevertheless, I would hardly be a man if I didn't protect you from harm. Surely you wouldn't want me to stand back and do nothing if I thought you were under attack.”

Incensed, she crossed her arms. “Odd that you should say so, Your Grace, when you yourself verbally attacked me this afternoon.”

Miles glanced away before returning his gaze to her. He braced his hands on the back of the chair that his cousin had occupied. “I came here to apologize for that, Bella. I'm terribly sorry for all those things I said to you. I was wrong to make such vile accusations. Can you ever forgive me?”

His contrition caught her off guard. For a moment she could only gape at him in stupefaction. Unlike the cold, hateful mask he'd worn in the ballroom, now he looked remorseful and sincere. Why? What had happened to alter his harsh denunciation of her?

Those vile words still rubbed raw deep inside of her.
You pretended to be coy, you lured me into your bed and then pushed me away, you led me on and tormented me day and night …

Bella walked stiffly away to the fireplace and whirled to face him. “I never tried to tempt you to the altar. That was completely unfair of you to imply that I did. Have you forgotten that it was
I
who told you we could not continue with … this?” She gestured at the bed, unable to speak the word “lovemaking.” Love had had nothing to do with their coupling, not even for her. It had been glorious, forbidden lust—and in spite of everything, she wanted it again.

His gaze held steady. “I was too overcome by shock to think clearly. The evidence seemed to point toward the fact that you had duped me. But I quickly realized my mistake after I stormed out of the house. I knew it even as I knocked on Lady Milford's door.”

“You went to see her ladyship?”

“Yes. I was furious at her for interfering in my life. It wasn't the first time she'd done so.” Releasing his hold on the chair, he paced closer to Bella. “She confirmed what I'd already surmised. That you had no knowledge of the ruse. It had been entirely her doing.”

Her legs weak, Bella sank down onto the chair by the hearth. Miles really meant it. He no longer blamed her. Yet the canker of his angry words still lodged beneath her breastbone. “What do you mean, she'd done this to you before?”

He stopped in front of her, ran his fingers through his hair. “As I told you at our first meeting, matchmaking is a particular sore point to me. A few months ago, Lady Milford brought her protégée here, a Lady Beatrice, an insipid girl right out of the schoolroom who was full of empty chatter about redecorating Aylwin House. Since Lady Beatrice was clearly aware of the woman's matchmaking skills, I presumed you must be, too.”

Bella reluctantly saw his point. He had committed his life to his work with the Egyptian artifacts, yet many ladies couldn't understand the depth of his dedication. When they looked at Miles, they only saw the prestige of his title and the prospect of becoming mistress of this grand house. Even Lady Milford had done so on behalf of Lady Beatrice.

Bella, too, secretly thought he would benefit from the tender affections of a wife, but not for the shallow reasons of those society women. Miles was a fine man beneath all his bluster and he deserved to be loved. But she didn't dare tell him so—or admit that she herself harbored foolish feelings for him.

He sank down onto one knee in front of her chair and took hold of her hand, rubbing it gently. “Bella, please don't leave here tomorrow, I beg of you. I want you to stay. You and Lila and Cyrus. For as long as you like.”

Her throat tightened. The feel of his warm fingers on hers almost did her in. She was astonished that he would kneel before her, the almighty Duke of Aylwin, pleading for her forgiveness. She couldn't imagine he'd done so for many women.

Yet
why
did he want her to stay? That was the question to which she craved an answer. Miles had a strong sense of duty and an adherence to gentlemanly conduct. Did he only feel compelled to right the wrong that he'd done to his employee?

Or had he set his mind on seduction?

The notion ignited a fire deep inside of her. But they had no real future together. He would never marry her. He had made his disdain for the institution very clear. And she could not engage in a carnal affair because her brother and sister would be sullied by association.

Bella drew back her hand and gave him a cool look that hid the knot of pain and confusion in her heart. “I don't think that would be wise, Your Grace. It would be best if I return to Oxford.”

He frowned slightly and glanced away for a moment, the harsh lines of his face etched with frustration. Then his gaze sought hers again. “Will you at least consider a delay? We have yet to go through your father's papers. In fact, tonight might be an excellent time to start.”

“I promised to join Lila and Cyrus for dinner.”

A faint smile touched his mouth. “I'm afraid you're too late. When I stopped in the library earlier, they seemed hungry, so I allowed them to pull the bell rope and order whatever they liked.”