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‘You cannot so soon have forgotten? How it would wound the noble doctor to know that you could forget him even for a second.’
She felt her cheeks grow hot again and her eyes slid away in uneasy embarrassment.
‘Oh, yes,’ Rendel murmured ironically, ‘I know that you saw him today. I was fool enough to be glad when I was released from business early and hastened to the city by water. I arrived in time to see you bidding your lover goodbye with such fondness that it was quite touching. For a noble physician, Dr Belgrave contrives to convey his deep and tender emotion in the most subtle fashion, doesn’t he? Long kisses on your fingers. A burning look. An air of tragedy.’ His lip curled. ‘I imagine you find it very effective.’
She gave him a defiant stare. ‘He would not behave as you do, sir. Have you forgotten how you fondled that disgusting creature in front of me? Humiliated and shamed me in front of my servants? Andrew loves me—yes, it is true.’ She glared at him. ‘He told me so today, for the first time.’
He laughed savagely.
‘For the first time,’ she repeated scornfully. ‘I have never pretended that I do not love Andrew. You knew it from the first. I am not ashamed of my feelings for him. He is a very good man. He would not have told me how he felt today had I not surprised it out of him.’
‘How admirable,’ he sneered, pushing her off his lap so that she almost fell.
She staggered and clutched at the chair, then faced him with the courage of anger. ‘Yes, he is admirable. He himself told me that we must never meet again. He even told me it was my duty to love my husband.’
Rendel got up, towering over her in a bitter rage. ‘Do you think I want such dutiful affection? God, sometimes you make me sick to my stomach. Your frozen, sanctimonious little mind does not know the meaning of the word love.’
‘And what do you mean by it, sir?’ she demanded bitterly. ‘The hurried fondling of some vulgar woman of the streets? Love that can be bought in the open market?’
His brows snapped blackly together. ‘Oh, as I bought you, Madame, as I bought you.’
She stared, breathless with angry shame, then turned and walked to the door.
The footmen, clearing the empty dining-room, turned to stare after her as she went. The guests had all, it seemed, been sent packing.
She went up to her chamber and curtly told Nan to leave her. Nan, with one shrewd look, obeyed. Cornelia began to undress, dropping her clothes upon the floor.
She was standing in her shift, brushing her hair, when Rendel came into the chamber.
She threw him a furious look over her naked shoulder. ‘Get out of my room. ‘
He slammed the door shut behind him and walked towards her, his eyes running over her insolently.
‘Why, no, Madame, I think not. You are my property. We are agreed upon that, are we not?’
She struck at him with the heavy silver hairbrush and then shrank back, seeing him reel, clutching at his forehead where the blow had fallen. He took his hand away, staring at it. Blood smeared his fingertips. She looked in horror at the dark red mark which slowly began to swell outwards.
His mouth twisted in an ugly smile. ‘Once again, Madame, you have marked me. ‘
She was overcome with remorse, watching the bruise spread and darken. ‘You should not have insulted me,’ she said defensively, her voice timid.
He brushed her words aside with an angry shrug. ‘Well, since you find me so repulsive, I will not force myself upon you. I can find plenty of women to pleasure me, my Lady. Do not think I shall sleep alone tonight.’
He bowed briefly and walked out. She heard him shouting to a servant to bring him more wine, heard his feet bang down the stairs, doors slamming and raised voices.
Was he sending for one of those crude, loud-voiced women? She bit her lip. Why should she care? She did not love him. Let him take some other woman —it would leave her free, wouldn’t it?
But then she groaned. She might hate him, despise him, long to be free of him, but beneath this angry rejection of her mind her traitor body ached to be held in his arms, close to him.
She shivered, standing in her shift, and turned to the bed. Climbing up on it, she drew the curtains and crouched, her arms crossed over her breast, listening to the distant sounds from below stairs.
What was he doing? She should have seen that raw beef was put against his bruise to draw out the poison.
The sounds below stopped eventually. All was quiet. She slid into bed and lay, eyes wide, frozen into immobility.
At some time during the night she fell into a restless sleep. Then she woke suddenly, her brow wrinkling. Something was wrong. She opened her eyes, and remembered what had happened earlier. But it was not that that had dragged her out of her sleep. It was a strange smell. She sniffed deeply, then sat up.
Was it smoke she could smell?
