A Woman of Passion (56 page)

In her enthusiasm Bess made a few blots and spelling mistakes, so she took great pains to write out a fresh copy before her husband saw it. Her heart filled with pride as she signed it,
Elizabeth, Countess of Shrewsbury.

“Bess, where the devil are you hiding? The rain has
stopped, and I warrant the woods are filled with deer. Let's ride into Sherwood and see if we can bag one. It's our last day here.”

She knew he loved to hunt and agreed to ride out with him. “I have to change, but I promise I won't be long, darling. While you're waiting for me, you can look over the matches I have proposed for our sons and daughters.”

He watched her walk away from him, then turn to look over her shoulder with an inviting glance. Her lure was potent; surely she didn't expect him to put his mind on the serious business of espousals when all he wanted to do was help her change her clothes. His eyes scanned the paper on the desk, curious to know what she had been plotting. When he saw that she had paired two of her children with two of his, he threw back his head and laughed, totally amused at how outrageous she could be.

That afternoon Bess did not bring up the subject that was foremost in her mind. He had read her proposals, and that was a good start. She would give him a little time to reflect and come around to her way of thinking.

While her husband and his gamekeeper dressed and hung the stag he had shot with a single arrow, Bess helped Cecily with the final packing, and the servants carried their baggage down to the hall in readiness for an early departure to Sheffield. Though she was loath to leave Rufford, Bess was looking forward to her new position as Countess of Shrewsbury and mistress of Sheffield Castle. She couldn't wait to start redecorating their private wing and putting her personal stamp on everything in the Talbot empire.

Shrewsbury bathed and changed his bloodied clothes, then joined his wife for a glass of wine before dinner.
“We've been so happy here, Bess. Let's pledge to come back often, just the two of us.”

She raised her glass, then glanced down at the paper still lying on the desk. “We mustn't forget to take this.” She gave him a brilliant smile. “What do you think about my clever idea?”

“Surely you jest! Sweetheart, you can't be serious?”

The smile left her face. “I've never been more serious in my life. This is very important to me, Shrew.”

“Who my children marry is of tantamount importance to me too, believe it or not.” His voice dripped with sarcasm and arrogance. “Wherever did you get this preposterous idea?”

“I got it when you married two of your children to two of William Herbert's!” Bess could feel her anger rising quickly.

“William Herbert happens to be the Earl of Pembroke. Our children are equal in name and wealth.”

Bess felt as if her cheeks were on fire. “So you actually think my Cavendish children are not good enough to wed with Talbots, you arrogant swine!”

“I think no such thing.”

“Then what do you think?” Bess cried furiously. “Let's be plain with each other!”

“All right. Since you ask, I will be plain. These things are for me to decide, not you. I will not allow you to be the boss and make the decisions. It's highly amusing that you just assume I will let you have all your own way. You obviously think because I love you deeply, I will allow you to rule me. But I will not, nor will I allow you to run roughshod over me or manipulate me. Bess, I will be master in my own house.”

“You brute, how dare you speak to me like this!” She hissed like a feline ready to unsheathe her claws.

“You are a woman, a very beautiful woman, and up to now that has allowed you to have your own way about everything. You have had men dancing to your tune all your life. You may have been able to wrap your other husbands about your fingers, Bess, but not me, my darling. I am not other men, as you will soon learn.”

“Don't you dare to threaten me, you black beast!” He had immediately taken the offensive position, which left her with no option but to defend herself. “I would not be doing my job as a mother if I did not look after my children's best interests!”

“Your ambition is insatiable. It consumes you and everything in your path like wildfire. I won't allow it to destroy us!”

Bess picked up the inkstand from the desk and hurled it at him. It missed, but the ink splattered, then pooled on the priceless Persian carpet.

His icy blue eyes narrowed. “You forget yourself, madam. You are behaving like a common fishwife.”

“And you're behaving like a bloody Talbot hound!”

“I think the servants have heard enough. When you are ready to beg my pardon, I will be upstairs,” he said coldly.

“I wish I'd never married you!” she screamed.

“But you did,” he said quietly, “and you also vowed to obey me. Bess, make no mistake, I will bring you to heel if I have to.”

She gasped, speechless, as he turned his back on her and left the room. She stood there, stunned that she did not hold him in the palm of her hand. “To hellfire with you, Shrewsbury!” She put her hands to her temples and felt her blood pounding.
Son of a bitch, son of a bloody bitch! Bring me to heel, begod! I'll show him; I'll leave him! I'll go home to Chatsworth! Tonight!
Bess summoned her maid.
“Cecily, we are leaving. No, don't bother with the damned baggage.” Bess raised her voice in total defiance. “And you know what you can do with your bloody pearls too!”

The following morning Bess's mother and Marcella were amazed to find her sitting at the breakfast table.

“What are you doing here?”

“I live here,” she snapped.

“Where's Shrewsbury?” her mother ventured.

“Never utter that name in this house again!” Bess summoned her secretary. “Robert, bring the accounts up to the library.”

Marcella rolled her eyes. “We are in for a monumental battle of wills between the earl and his new countess, I'm afraid.”

Bess's mother whispered, “It's a miracle it lasted this long.”

Bess threw herself into her work. After the accounts were done, she visited her tenant farms, ordered the necessary repairs, and she waited for Shrewsbury to come. When he did not she inspected her mines and rode over to Hardwick, where a great seam of coal had just been discovered. She vowed to herself that when Shrewsbury came she would be ready for him. But Shrewsbury did not come.

During the next week Bess raved and cursed and swore and threw things. Then she flung herself on her bed and sobbed. When she was finally drained of her temper and her self-pity, she began to think more clearly. She still felt that the betrothals were right, but she admitted that she had been wrong not to broach the subject
before they were married. When he came she would admit it.

Bess managed to fill her days, but her nights were endless. She missed Shrewsbury so much, she thought she would surely die.
Damn the man, why is he taking so long to come?
She answered herself.
Because he's arrogant, and stubborn, and willful, and expects everyone to do his bidding without question!
She pressed her lips together, knowing she had just described herself. What if he never came? The thought was unendurable. What if he was finished with her? She'd never live down the scandal— she'd be a laughingstock! Yet deep down it was another matter that was breaking her heart. She loved him madly, more than she'd ever admitted, more than she'd ever realized, and obviously a thousand times more than he loved her! What in God's name was she going to do?

Bess cringed at thoughts of going to Sheffield, begging for forgiveness. She had too much pride; it would choke her! She concocted a dozen plots that might bring him to Chatsworth but abandoned them, knowing he would see through her deceit. She hadn't slept in a week and in desperation took a full bottle of malmsey to bed with her.

Bess awoke, terrified. The room was empty, stripped bare. She ran downstairs and found the bailiffs carrying off everything she possessed in the world. Bess begged and pleaded and cried, all to no avail. Outside, all her lovely possessions were being piled on a cart. She had been put out of her beautiful house and had nowhere to go. Fear washed over her in great waves. Panic choked her. When she turned around, the cart was gone, her family was gone, and even Chatsworth had vanished. Bess had lost everything she had in the world. The suffocating terror mounted until it engulfed her, the waves of fear almost drowning her. The hollow, empty feeling inside her
belly was like ravenous hunger, only worse: Shrewsbury was gone! She was overwhelmed with helplessness, hopelessness.

Bess awoke and heard herself crying his name, “Shrew … Shrew.” As she lay trembling, recovering from the nightmare, she knew that she never wanted to be alone again. She had done this to herself. She had been too pushy and had tried to dominate him. Shrewsbury was a man who would not be controlled by a woman, and therein lay his great attraction. And the only thing that was keeping them apart was her pride. She had always accused Shrewsbury of being too blood proud, but she suddenly realized her own towering pride was every bit as great as his. We are a good match—nay, we are a perfect match! she told herself.

By the time dawn arrived, Bess knew what she must do. “Cecily, what happened to that outfit I designed especially for my first entrance to Sheffield Castle as Countess of Shrewsbury?”

Cecily hid a smile. Bess spoke of her “entrance” as if she were the queen. “I'll speak to your sewing women, my lady; it must be finished by now.”

As she stepped in front of her mirror to inspect her appearance, Bess knew she looked spectacular. The tight-fitting cream velvet jacket showed off her high breasts to perfection, and the brilliant peacock velvet she had chosen for the full skirt contrasted dramatically. Beneath it, her three petticoats were in varying shades of the same color, while her gloves and riding boots were made of soft kid leather, dyed peacock color to match her skirt exactly. The outfit was sewn all over with seed pearls, as if they had been scattered by a careless hand.

The pièce de résistance, however, was the saucy hat with its sweeping ostrich feather that curved down one side of her flaming tresses and tucked beneath her chin.
Bess adored the hat; it made both the outfit and her look absolutely ravishing. She carried her hat and gloves downstairs and was just about to send orders to the stable to have Raven saddled, when a footman announced that the Earl of Shrewsbury had arrived.

Bess drew in a swift breath, and her pulses began to race madly. She watched the tall, dark figure stride into the room and felt his presence dominate it. “You came,” she murmured in wonder.

His eyes swept her from head to foot. “I came to bring you to heel, Vixen.”

Her eyes flashed and her chin went up as a defiant phrase sprang to her lips. Bite your tongue, Bess, he's baiting you, her inner voice whispered. “Say what you have come to say, my lord, I will listen,” she said evenly.

“I've come to take you back to Sheffield with me, where you belong. From now on you will be an obedient wife.” He paused to give his ultimatum emphasis. “If you refuse, the marriage is over, here and now. I won't ask you again, Bess.”

You are not
asking
me now, you black devil, she thought wryly but bit down on her wayward tongue. “Since you give me no leeway, it seems I must obey you, my lord husband.” She quickly pushed away thoughts of all she intended to take with her.
Just go; don't keep him waiting.
Bess pinned on her hat and picked up her gloves. “I'm ready, my lord.” Though her words were soft, there was nothing meek about her demeanor as she sailed through Chatsworth's front door, like a ship proudly flying her colors.

When she saw the carriage, she bit her lip.
Damn, he wants me to arrive like a lady. I was looking forward to a wild gallop.
“How thoughtful of you to bring the carriage for me,” she said softly. She did not see the look of amusement
Shrewsbury quickly masked as he climbed into the saddle.
It's just as well we are not riding together. I couldn't keep this charade up for ten miles!

Bess made a triumphant entrance into Sheffield Castle just as she had planned, with her husband, the earl, at her side. He was extremely proud of this beautiful, vibrant woman as she stood in the Great Hall before hundreds of Talbot attendants and servants. “Ladies and gentlemen, I have the great honor of presenting my wife, Elizabeth, Countess of Shrewsbury.”

Bess thanked every single person who welcomed her, and it was two hours before Shrewsbury could maneuver her up to the library and shut the doors so they could be private. She unpinned her hat, and he took it from her and set it aside. Then he opened the desk drawer, took out a document, and placed it in her hands. She read it quickly, breathlessly, hardly daring to believe it espoused her daughter Mary to Gilbert Talbot, and his daughter Grace to her son Henry Cavendish. Her fingers traced his signature and his seal.

As her eyes sought his, her heart was singing. “Shrew, why did you do this?”

“It is a reward for your obedience,” he said solemnly.

“You arrogant swine!” She flew at him, ready to rake his face.

With a whoop of laughter, he pinned her arms behind her and gathered her close. His demanding mouth descended on hers, mastering her, then his lips softened in a kiss that was perfect. He lifted her and sat her on the edge of the desk to explain his reasoning. “That night at Rufford, when my anger cooled, I began to see the advantages of what you proposed. I saw that it would keep
our wealth in our own family and benefit not just our children but our grandchildren and their children for generations.

“When I awoke and found you gone, I couldn't believe it. I was ready to murder you. I was incensed that you would put anything before our love, even the welfare and interests of your own children. And then it began to dawn on me that you were fighting for a principle, and you were ready to sacrifice everything for what you believed in your heart was the right thing for them. You were not only willing to risk the wealth and title, you were ready to sacrifice your own happiness. I thought that was rather a noble gesture, Bess, and I was proud of you.”