Hell Hath No Fury (Devilish Debutantes Book 1) Read online

Had he thought her father would not inform her of the terms within her own dowry?

  “You are spending Flave’s allotment.”

  Cecily shrugged. “As is he.”

  For a moment, she thought she saw amusement on his eyes, but it didn’t last for long.

  “My lady,” he began, “this elaborate spending is over. I’ve sent Flave to meet with my lawyers and have the money allocated as specified in your marriage contract. I’ve also designed the investment accounts to make available an allowance for each of you, which will begin disbursements next month. Meanwhile, you’ll have to make do with what you have. If necessary, I shall have Flave give notice to the vendors that you patronize and tell them to withhold credit from you. I sincerely hope this will not be necessary.”

  How deliciously commanding!

  Contrary to what Mr. Stephen Nottingham must be thinking, Cecily was not at all angry with him for curtailing the reckless run she and Flave had put on her dowry. In fact, she was slightly relieved.

  Her father had worked his entire life and would be extremely disappointed in her for the thoughtless spending she had done over the past few weeks. Not that she was thrilled with the arrogance Mr. Nottingham displayed while doing so, but she understood arrogant men. He had laid down a gauntlet and now obviously expected her to cry and pitch a fit so that he could exert his authority over her.

  She would not give him the satisfaction. Besides, she possessed personal funds that she could draw on at any time, of which Flave had no knowledge. This mandate of his cousin’s would cause Flavion far more discomfort than her.

  And yet, this entire situation brought her anger flaring back to life again. Her father’s hard-earned money would not have been squandered away if her husband hadn’t used her so callously.

  “You think to save him from my father,” she finally said.

  “I do and I will.” Mr. Nottingham’s eyes narrowed slightly. His tone was matter of fact but unyielding.

  “He does not deserve it.”

  The inscrutable man shrugged. “Perhaps not. But he is the only family I have, and I would wish to see him grow into an old man.”

  Cecily turned her head and gazed unfocussed out the window.

  “I did not foresee that a person could be so calculating and cruel,” she said. “Especially a person I loved. That is the very worst of it, you know. The fact that I believed him to be in love with me. And that I believed myself in love with him.”

  Stephen frowned, looked down at the desk, and cleared his throat. “That was not well done of him.”

  Cecily still gazed out the window. “I would rather he had pointed a gun at my heart and stolen my dowry in an outright robbery. I could then have preserved my self-respect.”

  Apparently, Mr. Nottingham had no response to her proclamation. He seemed a decent-enough sort. But his physical resemblance reminded her that Flave was his cousin.

  One, unfortunately, did not have the benefit of choosing one’s relations.

  “What would you have now?” he asked suddenly. “What can be done to convince you to call your father off?”

  At his question, she jerked her face away from the window and studied him. There had been enough deception. “I would have my freedom. I would have my self-respect, my dreams… my innocence.” With a self-deprecating laugh and a flip of her hair, she added, “Flavion’s head on a platter would not be unappreciated.”

  Cecily watched as he seemed to mentally catalogue her demands. Freedom, self-respect, dreams, innocence, and Flave’s head.

  “What if Flavion apologizes? Mends his ways and realizes that he loves you after all?”

  Ah, but Cecily knew the truth of Lord Kensington. He would never apologize and mean it. He would never mend his ways, and most of all, he would never love her.

  Which was a moot point anyhow, she realized with a start. She no longer wanted his love.

  “Fool me once, shame on him. Fool me twice, shame on me. I shall not be a fool twice, Mr. Nottingham. I do not even believe that Flave loves Miss Cunnington. The only person my husband loves is my husband.”

  At her words, Mr. Nottingham changed tactics. Perhaps he knew the truth of his cousin’s character as well. “Your freedom. What of an independence? You can have your own home, your own staff and never see Flavion again. Would that be freedom enough?”

  “It sounds more like a life of exile than a life of freedom. I am sent away to the country while Flavion gallivants about London as he always has? Come now, Mr. Nottingham. You can do better than that.”

  Mr. Nottingham’s jaw tightened somewhat at her words. She had not meant to goad him. But really, she’d lost everything when she’d married. Most of all, her hope for the future. She would not be sent away and forgotten. Cecily would have thrown something at Mr. Nottingham if she weren’t such a lady now.

  Ignoring her taunt, he continued. “Self-respect. You say you want your self-respect. Now tell me, how does a woman scorned regain her self-respect? Does she fritter about from ballroom to ballroom drinking excessive amounts of champagne? Does she heedlessly spend the hard-earned money her father worked for to provide her dowry? Does she never cease her endless pouting and bouts of self-pity?”

  She swiped one hand at her eyes. “You don’t know anything.” She would not cry in front of this brute!

  Mr. Nottingham grimaced. “I may know more than you think.”

  Something in his tone caused Cecily to look up at her husband’s cousin. His eyes shuttered, as he made himself busy shuffling a few wayward papers. Worry etched his forehead, and his jaw clenched again. This was not a person at all pleased with the situation he had found upon returning home.

  “Why are you so determined to help Flavion?” she asked. It wasn’t his responsibility, after all. “You are not the earl.”

  He stilled his hands and returned her regard. “I told you, he is my only family. I was absent from England when my uncle died, when Flavion needed me most. And now that I’ve returned, I find it nearly too late to assist him. I cannot allow my uncle’s heritage to fall to ruin. Nor can I allow Flavion’s actions to bring about his own demise.”

  Cecily tilted her head. This man had an extremely strong sense of responsibility. “You will not always be able to save him. He is a grown man.” She couldn’t help but feel respect for Mr. Stephen Nottingham. Why couldn’t her husband exhibit such strong integrity as his cousin?

  Pushing his chair back, he then stood up. He walked around, propped one hip against the side of the desk, and looked down at her. “Flavion’s father, my uncle, took me in as a child. He raised me at though I were his own son. I won’t turn my back on my cousin.” He paused before continuing. “Does that leave us at cross purposes, or can we find some common ground?”

  Cecily did not want to let go of her anger — of her hurt. But this man was starting to get to her. “He ought to be punished for his actions,” she said.

  Mr. Nottingham nodded slowly, his gaze not wavering from her face.

  “He is no longer going to have free access to your dowry. Your father’s stipulations have already seen to that.”

  But that wasn’t what bother her the most. “It isn’t about the money,” she said softly. “It’s about… taking what he wanted with no regard for anybody else, with no regard for my feelings or those of Miss Cunnington. No one has ever done that to me before. I know my father can seem very heartless where business is concerned, but I’ve never seen him do to a person what your cousin did to me. And quite honestly, he has done a considerable wrong to Miss Cunnington as well. If he loved her, he ought not to have married another lady, for any reason.” She raised her fist to her heart and spoke fiercely. “I cannot abide him getting away with it.”

  “But he does not deserve to be killed.”

  This man was proving to have a most annoying habit — that of being right.

  “No,” Cecily agreed half-heartedly, feeling as though all of the fight were leaving her. “I will not allow Papa to have him ki
lled,” she admitted. “I wouldn’t have anyway, and my papa knows this.”

  At this statement, Mr. Nottingham’s shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. “Well then, since I won’t be required to deliver his head to you on a platter, we shall simply have to find some other appropriate punishment for him. But will you allow me to assist you in this? Will you send word to your father that you are well, that you are content?”

  Cecily searched his eyes. He’d joked about Flavion’s head, but other than that, he clearly was not mocking her. His expression was frank, forthright. His eyes were not the same as Flavion’s. After several moments of hesitation, she spoke grudgingly.

  “I will send word to my father that matters are improving.”

  But that was not enough. “And you will allow me to assist you in avenging Flavion for his actions?”

  Cecily leaned forward and placed the receipts and bills he’d dropped into her lap back onto the desk. “Conditionally.”

  “The punishment must be subject to your approval?” he asked.

  Cecily had remembered something else, though. “Earlier you said that you understood more than I might know. Tell me what you meant.”

  Mr. Nottingham glanced down at the receipts she’d placed upon the desk, and she could no longer see his eyes. “You are not the only person in the world to have been betrayed by someone you love.” And with that, he pushed himself away from the desk and walked over to the door, his face suddenly like granite. “I have detained you long enough already, my lady. Perhaps both of us can do some thinking and meet again in a few days’ time to discuss this further.”

  Knowing she was being put off, Cecily walked over to the door but paused in the threshold. “Well…” she said knowingly, “…perhaps you might use that betrayal as inspiration for some of that punishment we’ll be doling out.” She turned with a flourish. “Good afternoon, Mr. Nottingham.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  DESPITE BEING ORDERED to cease visits to her modiste, Cecily made her way to Madam Chantal’s shop the very next day. Madam was currently working on a few new gowns, which Cecily would not give up. They were her own designs, and she was most excited to see them come to life.

  She spoke privately with the dressmaker and instructed that her bills be sent to a Mr. Niles Waverly, her father’s man of business, rather than to her husband. She’d known Niles her entire life, and as the trustee of her personal funds, he would, as always, handle matters discreetly. She felt rather satisfied with herself upon leaving the Frenchwoman’s quaint little shop. She didn’t need Mr. Nottingham to pay her bills. Thank you, Papa!

  Once she’d completed her business with Madam, Cecily strolled over to Bond Street, where she met both Sophia and Rhoda at one of their favorite milliners. After showing off their respective purchases, Cecily handed off her packages to the footman who had escorted her, and the three ladies made their way to Gunter’s on foot.

  “My Aunt Gertrude is visiting from Bath. It seems she has a lengthy acquaintance with the Nottingham family. I wish I had spoken to her before you married, Cece. Flavion’s mother spends a great deal of time taking the waters, and Aunt Gertrude has known her for years.” Rhoda twirled a parasol on her shoulder and fluttered her lashes as a handsome gentleman stepped aside for the three of them.

  Cecily looked at her curiously. “And?” Knowing her friend all too well, Cecily urged Rhoda’s attention back to the matter at hand. “They were good friends?” She’d only met the dowager on one occasion and had been quite put off by her. Thank God, the dowager countess had returned to Bath immediately following the wedding. A cranky mother-in-law was the last thing Cecily wanted to deal with.

  Rhoda pursed her lips before speaking. “Oh, no. Aunt said she barely tolerated the countess. But she had a wealth of information to share. She said that Lady Kensington often complained about Flave’s cousin. Mr. Nottingham was only ten when his parents were killed. She said her husband insisted they care for his brother’s orphaned child. She often told anyone who would listen that the earl favored him above his own son. She wanted nothing more than to send the boy away to school, but the earl refused.”

  “Then why would Mr. Nottingham leave England?” Cecily pondered.

  Rhoda had more to say. “Mr. Nottingham fled England when he and Flave fought over a woman — Mr. Nottingham’s fiancée! Flavion won the lady, and Mr. Nottingham left. Aunt Gertrude said that the countess never spoke of him after that.”

  Cecily let out a very unladylike snort. Knowing what she did of her husband, she was not surprised that the fallout had occurred over a woman. She only wished she knew more details. Most likely Flavion had turned the charm on and stolen the lady away. Cecily understood how potent his appeal could be — all too well.

  And now Mr. Nottingham was back in England feeling responsible for the safety of the cad, of all the ironies.

  “Is that all she said, Rho?” Cecily asked.

  Rhoda took several steps before answering. “She mentioned that she thought there were other troubles with Lord Kensington but didn’t say what.”

  “Oh,” Cecily responded.

  The girls walked in silence for nearly half a block. They could all only imagine what sort of troubles Flavion had gotten himself into growing up.

  “I am not going to seduce Mr. Nottingham,” Cecily announced rather abruptly. She liked him. “He is innocent of having any previous knowledge of Flavion’s deception.”

  Rhoda waved the concerns away with her hand. “He is a man of the world. It’s most unlikely that he is innocent, and please remember that he had the effrontery to suggest that you might make some effort to repair your marriage — as if it were your fault it was damaged in the first place. No, Mr. Nottingham is merely trying to protect Flave and your dowry from your father.” As Gunter’s came into view, she increased their pace considerably. “There’s Emily. Let’s see what she thinks about this.”

  Her friends were going to be disappointed in her, Cecily thought, as they stepped into the popular little parlor, when she told them of the bargain she had struck with Mr. Nottingham.

  After choosing each of their favorite flavors of ice and finding a relatively private table near the back corner, the four ladies resumed their conversation. Cecily explained her change of heart regarding revenge on Flave by telling them that Mr. Nottingham had realized the situation the dowry was in and had already taken measures to assure its preservation.

  “He’s a smart one. I’ll say that for sure,” Emily interrupted, after savoring a bite of her ice. “Might be best to leave him be. Oh, by the way, Cecily,” she added as an afterthought while reaching into her large book bag, “I picked these up for you. Do study them within the next few days as they are on loan from the library.” Her eyes twinkled with humor as she handed them over. “Perhaps there’s something here that we could use.”

  Cecily read the titles of each book out loud. “A Guide to the Poisonous Plants Found in England, A Beginner’s Handbook on the Care and Handling of Firearms, and, oh Lord, Emily, A Treatise on the World’s Most Diabolical Murderers?” Placing the books into her own bag, she laughed. “You truly are going to have to stop encouraging me. I just may do it one of these days. But thank you for thinking of me. I’ll return them to the library tomorrow. I plan on going this week anyhow, and what with being ordered to stop spending so much of my husband’s — no — of my father’s money, I’ll need to find some other way to occupy my time.”

  Emily looked sympathetic. “Any word from your father yet?”

  “Nothing,” Cecily said. “And I am beginning to wonder if even he can get me out of this marriage. Regardless of where I go, I will be ruined. Even if he took me to America, I could not participate in Society. I’ve heard that our scandals are discussed over there nearly as much as they are here.” She suddenly felt weary. “I cannot imagine being married to Flavion for the rest of my life, though. I was such an idiot to fall for him! And now I’m tied to him forever!” Saying the words again, she realize
d she was becoming something of a whiner. But she did not know what to do. She could never come to terms with her situation and ‘make the best of it.’ That simply was not within her nature.

  “You won’t be,” Rhoda said firmly. “You are going to seduce Mr. Nottingham, get with child if necessary, and obtain that divorce you want so badly.” She put one hand over Cecily’s. “We will all do anything we can to help you.” Looking around the table, she added, “All in?”

  Emily put her hand atop Rhoda’s, and then Sophia added hers to the pile.

  “All in,” they said in unison.

  Blinking back tears, Cecily smiled. She had the best friends in the world. They truly were going to be disappointed when she failed to follow through with their plans.

  LEAVING GUNTER’S THAT afternoon, Cecily ought to have felt reassured and comforted. In actuality, she was more confused than before. The plan to seduce Mr. Nottingham, although sound in logic, had caused a knot to form in her stomach. Even so, his compulsion to protect such an utter scoundrel as his cousin, he seemed a decent man. And in truth, she did not think she could do such a thing.

  Perhaps… perhaps…

  An idea was growing in her mind. If she told Mr. Nottingham that they could punish Flavion by pretending to have an affair, Flavion would be punished, and her friends would be appeased. Perhaps the appearance of an affair would anger Flavion enough to begin divorce proceedings…

  She could not spend her entire life tied to Flavion Nottingham. Despite Society dictates, she simply did not have it in her to endure a marriage such as this. And Flavion would eventually insist upon an heir.

  She knew the nobility had little sentimentality when it came to the raising of children. At first, she’d been shocked to hear that many of the ladies of the ton left them with nannies and governesses for weeks at a time. She herself had been raised by a governess, but there had not been a mama to step in and do the job herself. Furthermore, her father had kept her with him often. Not having known her own mother made it more important than ever to nurture any children she might have. A loving father had always been a part of her expectations. She positively did not wish to try to raise children with such a man as Flavion Nottingham.