The Other Side - J. D. Robb [43]
“You must stop looking annoyed, Harry. I am supposed to be the love of your life. Act like it.”
With a sniff, Harry gave his horse a nudge and rode off, making it obvious to every observer that they were not on the best of terms.
Come back here! Bettina wanted to shout. She might feel perfectly at ease seated astride, dressed as her husband dressed, but she did not feel at all comfortable pretending to be him among his cronies and, worse, his flirts.
When Harry’s good friend, Lord Bright, called out, Bettina pretended she did not hear him, but a minute later she could not avoid Lord Osterman, who stopped his horse crossways in the path.
“Where the hell have you been all week, Fellsborough? I was counting on your vote, and now have had to put it off until you deign to return to Parliament.”
“My apologies for the inconvenience. I was struck with some strange inflammation that left me too weak to even move from bed. It passed as quickly as it started.” The excuse she and Harry had concocted sounded weaker when spoken than it had when they discussed it.
“More like you found a whore to your liking and spent the last three days with her.”
“That would be more like you than me, Osterman.” Bettina had no trouble recalling what Harry had told her about Lord Osterman. How he liked to find a prostitute and use her until the woman begged to give the money back if he would leave her alone.
Bettina wished now that she had not ignored Lord Bright. She would much rather tease him about his last visit to Almack’s than have the image of a beast like Osterman in her head.
Her disgust stood her in good stead in this situation. It was not hard to look as revolted as she felt. In fact, she was having a hard time controlling her anger at his outrageous behavior.
“You only wish you had the kind of stamina I do,” the man bragged. “I can fuck for hours without rest.”
“And the pleasure is all yours.” You selfish pig.
“The wife has no complaints.”
Of course she doesn’t, Bettina thought. You probably avoid her bed as much as you can.
“Not like your wife, Fellsborough. You don’t seem to be in the countess’s good graces. Have you been neglecting her? Perhaps I should offer to show her what a real man can do.”
“She is a loyal and faithful wife, Osterman. There is nothing you could say or do that would tempt her.” Bettina was pleased with her response. It’s what Harry would have said; she was almost sure of it.
“Are you suggesting a wager? I could bed your wife and give her more satisfaction than you ever could, and put another child in her belly for you to call your own.” Osterman licked his lips.
That the man could even make such a suggestion drove all rational thought from Bettina’s head. She leaned forward and looked him straight in the eye. For a second her vision was actually clouded with red. “Mark my words, you lecherous fool. A whore is more of a lady than you are a gentleman.”
Osterman’s expression made Bettina realize that she might have gone too far. His face showed a mix of puzzlement and a matching anger, his skin a mottled red and white. “Watch what you say, Fellsborough, or I will call you out right now.”
Bettina hoped her panic did not show. Harry was an expert shot, but she had never in her life handled a pistol.
“I need your vote, my lord.” Osterman spoke with hatred coloring each word. “That is the only thing that is saving you. Be advised you are on very tenuous ground.” Osterman turned his horse with a jerk of his wrist and headed toward the park entrance without a farewell.
Bettina decided to allow him the last word, even though it left her feeling that she had lost the battle. Harry would never have allowed that.
Bettina looked around for her husband and found him conversing with the Duchess of Lowbray, laughing much too loudly at something she said.
The mare he rode was not comfortable, Bettina could see that, reflecting, she suspected, Harry’s ill ease riding sidesaddle.
At least Harry’s behavior was not threatening her life, as she had just threatened