The Wedding Game(52)

And Summoner’s horrible suggestion whispered at the back of his mind. He could keep them both. One for his mind, his heart and his body, and the other for the illusion of perfection that his future demanded.

Belle would not expect fidelity. Neither should he. What did it matter whose arms his wife slept in, while he was lying with another? If they could not all be happy, there was no reason that they might not at least be physically satisfied.

It might not have been the marriage Miss Arabella imagined for herself. But that was because she was a na?ve child and her sister was not much better. But it would not take so very much to kill their innocence and bring them both to their senses, so the four of them could live comfortably.

Most importantly, a man could not let his life be ruled by romantic nonsense, if one intended to do great things. Humans, both the male and the female, were nothing more than animals. They had an animal’s desire to rut and breed. Only when that biology was appeased could the mind be free for higher thoughts.

He stopped, dead in the middle of the dance floor, disgusted by his own thoughts. But they were not his thoughts at all. He knew that humans were imbued with divine virtues: reason, honour and temperance. They were what separated a man from a beast.

Ben knew that. But old Cottsmoor hadn’t. He had spent half his life trying to escape the worst of that man’s teachings. Tonight they had all come back at once, ready to claim his soul.

‘Mr Lovell?’ Amy was staring up at him in confusion, waiting for him to move. When he did not she whispered more urgently, ‘Ben?’

‘Excuse me.’ He dropped her hand and released her, walking from the room without another word.





Chapter Eighteen

Amy stared at the canopy over her bed, trying to forget the evening she had just endured. The days leading up to the trip had been difficult enough, what with Belle’s sudden change of disposition. Relocating her and presenting her with this fait accompli of a marriage complete with house, servants and friends in the peerage had only made it more complicated.

When Amy added the feelings she held for the host, her troubles multiplied exponentially. But really, it had been going quite well, all things considered. Other than that brief moment of temptation while looking out the bedroom window, she’d been the picture of decorum. For a moment, while they’d been dancing, she had actually convinced herself that something like a normal friendship might be possible.

They had been talking. It had been their usual, squabbling banter. Then, with no explanation, Benjamin Lovell had gone mad. There was no other way to explain it. He had stopped dancing. Instead of laughing away the pause, he’d stood stock still for almost a minute and grown so distant that she feared she might be witnessing the beginning of an apoplexy.

With even less warning, he had come back to himself, offered the briefest apology and abandoned her on the dance floor. His behaviour had been so bizarre that it took a moment for her to notice her own humiliation.

She was standing alone in the centre of a crowded room, staring after him. It did not take long before the other dances stopped as well. And then the music stopped and the whispering began.

Lovell had been dancing, not with his fiancée, but with her sister. The first dance was not even finished. What had he said? What had she said? What could possibly have happened to bring about such a bizarre turn of events?

When Mr Templeton noticed what had occurred, he went to search out his friend and demand that he attend to his guests. He returned a short time later to whisper that Mr Lovell had shut himself up in the library with the brandy bottle and would not be returning.

Showing surprising presence of mind for one so young, Cottsmoor announced that the host’s indisposition was no reason that the rest of them could not still enjoy themselves. He demanded that the musicians begin again and partnered Belle at the head of the set for Brown’s Reel.

Her sister was delighted. She was also the only one who did not seem at all concerned by her fiancé’s absence. But her renewed vivacity was enough to keep the male guests on the dance floor and the evening was salvaged.

Tomorrow, perhaps Amy could find Ben and scold him for acting the fool. He’d got exactly what he’d wanted, after all. Though it gave her no real pleasure to be proven right, she had told him from the first that it would never work. If he had refused to listen, he had no right to complain.

Belle would learn to adjust. Despite her nonsensical worries about the whiteness of the walls, she could be happy here. It was a beautiful house, modern and well attended. The servants seemed nice, as well. Perhaps they would recognise the deficiencies in their new lady and fill the gaps themselves. In a place like this, Belle could find a way to manage without her.

The thought brought another swirl of emotions. After a lifetime together, she was about to be parted from the sister she loved. She should not be feeling relief that someone else would be taking over the burden of care. Belle could not help how she was. And what good did it do Amy to be set free when no one was left who wanted her?

She should be happy that Belle was to be married and not jealous. This was no different than those childish tears she’d shed when her baby sister had got a toy that she desired, even though it was clear that Belle lacked the ability to appreciate it. It had been unworthy.

But, no. This was worse. They were both full grown and the man she wanted for herself had been handed over to her sister. Amy was left to help them start a life together, before stepping demurely out of the way. There was a limit beyond which sisterly devotion could not pass. She had always imagined that it would be death. That their final parting should be because of a man was something she had never suspected.