A Wayward Woman: Diamonds, Deception and the Debutante / Fugitive Countess. Helen Dickson

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stared at him, surprised by his revelation and clearly shocked. ‘To you? But—they are Ainsley diamonds—my grand mother—’

      ‘Told you they belonged to your family, I know. Maybe after all these years she has come to believe that. Is the loss of the diamonds the reason why she has taken to her bed?’

      ‘No. You were right. She wasn’t feeling too well at Carlton House last night and stayed with Lady Channing. She is still not well, so I thought it wise to wait until she is feeling better before I tell her the diamonds were stolen.’

      ‘One cannot steal something that legitimately belongs to them.’

      ‘But why go to all that trouble of pretending to be a highwayman?’ Belle demanded.

      At that moment Lance preferred not to think about the bet he had made with Rowland. ‘Because I wanted you to think the person who took your valuables was nothing more than an ordinary thief. Would you have given them to me if I’d asked?’

      ‘Of course not.’

      ‘There you are, then. You have your answer, but I cannot believe you planned this—to come here dressed as … you are,’ he said, contemplating her attire, thinking that in her white silk blouse, long and shapely legs encased in buff-coloured breeches, she really was a wonderful sight to behold, ‘and that you were foolish enough to come to my house to steal them back.’

      Suddenly Belle felt suffocated by his nearness. Her whole being throbbed with an awareness of him, but she knew that if she gave any hint of her weakness, it would only lead to disaster. She saw where his gaze was directed and, glancing down, realised the twin peaks of her breasts were standing taut and high beneath her blouse. Her cheeks grew suddenly hot with embarrassment, and she folded her arms across her chest, glowering at him.

      ‘I never would have, if not for the fury I was beset with at the time—and there’s a confession for you. I have a temper—I can’t help it, and I’m rarely able to control it once it snaps.’

      ‘I’d already figured that out for myself,’ Lance said drily. By his actions he had woken a sleeping dragon.

      ‘Then perhaps you’ll think twice about provoking it in future.’

      His eyes narrowed dangerously. ‘I, too, have a temper, Belle. You would do well to remember that.’ He stared at her for a moment, his jaw tight and hard, and then he sauntered to the fireplace, resting his arm on the mantelpiece.

      ‘If I were a man, I’d call you out for what you did to me last night.’

      ‘That would not be wise, Belle.’

      ‘No? After threatening my life and the men whose duty it was to protect me, nothing would satisfy me more that to put a bullet between your eyes.’

      ‘What? You can use a gun?’

      ‘Of course I can—I’m a very good shot, as it happens. Where I come from it is not unusual for women to learn how to shoot. I can hit a target with the best of them.’ She smiled wryly. ‘I suppose you will say my vanity is showing itself.’

      ‘No, I’m impressed. Not one of the ladies of my acquaintance would know which end of a gun to fire.’

      ‘Then you should become more selective in the ladies you associate with.’

      ‘I don’t think so,’ he replied drily. ‘To become intimately acquainted with a woman whose skill with any weapon might exceed my own, could prove to be dangerous.’

      ‘Then that lets me off the hook,’ Belle retorted flippantly.

      ‘How so?’

      ‘Last night you let me believe you were as enamoured of me as the rest—just to get your hands on my grandmother’s diamonds. You certainly know how to dent a girl’s pride.’

      Lance would like to have told her that she had jumped to the wrong conclusion, and that he was enamoured with both her and the necklace. The truth was that she was too beautiful, too sensational for a man not to be enamoured of her. But he refused to feed her vanity more than it already was by the doting swains who trailed in her wake.

      ‘I have every confidence that your pride will soon recover.’

      Belle was disappointed that he wasn’t attracted by her, but didn’t show it. Why had she to say that? How absolutely embarrassing. He probably thought she’d been making advances toward him, fishing for compliments. She should have known that her remark would be pointless. But damn it all, why did he have to point it out?

       Chapter Four

      For the first time since the diamonds had been taken, Belle had a feeling of self-doubt. Carrying her jacket, she moved towards Lord Bingham, confused as to what she should do. If the diamonds really did belong to him, then by rights she should give them back.

      ‘So, Belle. What are we to do? You have the jewels. Will you return them to me?’

      ‘I think I should wait and see what my grandmother has to say about that.’

      ‘Belle, they really do belong to me. If you don’t give them to me voluntarily, then I shall have to take them from you. Is that what you want?’

      ‘What?’ she uttered, her eyes flashing with scorn. ‘Will you threaten to shoot me like you did last night—and I seem to recall there was a moment when you implied that you would. What kind of man are you, Lord Bingham? What was it that drove you to play such a despicable game? Is there some quirk in your nature that you enjoy doing that to people? Why should I believe anything you say?’

      ‘Because I am a fairly honest person. Trust me. Something happened between our families concerning the diamonds when our grandmothers were in their prime. My grandmother kept a journal. Everything explaining proof of ownership and what happened at that time is written there. I will show it to you if you like, but there isn’t time now. I have to return to my guests.’

      Belle turned to the door. ‘I think I should go. I told the coach driver to wait for me at the corner of the street.’

      ‘Belle …’ She turned and looked at him. His eyes were steadfast. ‘The diamonds.’ Slowly he walked towards her, holding out his hand.

      Belle knew he wouldn’t let her out of that room unless she gave them to him. Reluctantly she fumbled in the pocket of her coat and took out the pouch and handed it to Lord Bingham.

      ‘Thank you,’ he said, taking it.

      ‘What do you advise me to tell my grandmother?’

      ‘The truth. She’ll understand. Come, I’ll take you back to the coach—although I can’t think what your driver was thinking of bringing you here, dressed like that, in the first place.’

      ‘I can be quite persuasive when I want to be—even with coach drivers when I use my best smile on them.’

      She didn’t need to elaborate. The effect of her smile was highly predictable. Lance could well imagine the driver’s dilemma, how dumbstruck and willing to do her bidding he had been when she had flashed her pearly white teeth and fluttered her eyelashes.

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