A Breath of Scandal (16 page)

“What are you thinking, my lord?” Lara asked when the silence became oppressive. “You’re becoming secretive again.”

“My name is Julian, Lara. I think we know one another well enough to use first names. After all, you’re going to be my wife soon.” He had to get her out of the intolerable situation in which she existed so he could protect her. At this point, even her father was suspect.

Lara gave Julian a wistful smile. “I knew Drago, but the Earl of Mansfield is a stranger to me.”

Lara suddenly became aware that Julian had turned down a deserted path. The clatter of carriage wheels other than their own could no longer be heard. Trees grew thick and dense on either side of the path, creating a canopy that nearly blotted out the sun.

“Where are we?” Lara asked.

“Still in the park but on a little used path,” Julian replied as he guided the carriage off the path and behind a stand of dense bushes that concealed them from passersby.

Her heart thudded against her ribcage. “Why are we stopping?”

“So I can do this,” Julian said, roughly pulling her against him. “And this,” he continued, clamping his mouth over hers and stealing her breath as surely as he was depriving her of her will.

He kissed her deeply, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. She breathed in his essence. His scent stirred her senses and sent them reeling. Then it happened. She returned his kiss with a sense of euphoric desperation, igniting something hot and deliciously wicked deep inside her. She clutched his shoulders, arching against him. She felt her will evaporating, until memories too painful to visit, dreams too shattered to be resurrected, brought her back to reality.

Julian hadn’t wanted her when he thought she was a Gypsy and he didn’t deserve her now. He didn’t love her. Strong feelings for his dead fiancée still haunted him. Lust wasn’t enough for her. She wanted it all, and Julian wasn’t prepared to give her what she needed.

Wresting herself from his arms, she held him at bay. “Stop, Julian. Why are you doing this?”

“Is it not obvious? There is something explosive between us that defies reason.”

“Lust,” Lara said in a voice ripe with disgust.

“Aye, there is that.”

“ ’Tis not enough, my lord. Take me home.”

He brought her back into his arms. “I’ve declared myself, Lara. I wish to marry you. Why are you resisting?”

“I do not wish to marry you … again,” she added meaningfully.

“I dishonored you. You’re an earl’s daughter and I intend to make amends. I want to protect you.”

There was a sarcastic edge to her words. “How good of you. Forget it, my lord. I don’t need protection.”

“Tell me you don’t need this,” Julian growled as he held her chin between his palms and lifted her mouth to his.

Don’t let him do this to you!
her mind screamed. But then she felt herself melting against him, taking the heady taste of him deep into her mouth, writhing beneath his hands as they roamed freely over her body. What made her love this particular man? she wondered despondently. Why did every other man seem weak and insubstantial compared to Julian?

She felt his hands on her back; his warm palms trailed a line of fire down her spine. She groaned a desperate sigh, the beloved familiarity of his touch shattering her willpower. Then she felt a rush of air against her chest and realized that he had unfastened her bodice, baring her breasts. His mouth went unerringly to her nipple as his hands lifted them from the confines of her corset. She tried to push him away but her resistance fled as he licked and sucked the taut buds, moving easily from one to the other.

Lara scarcely had time to catch her breath when she became aware of a new sensation. Excitement raced through her. Julian had lifted the hem of her skirt and was skimming his hand along the insides of her legs. Deliberately she pressed her thighs together, but he merely chuckled and continued past the meager barrier. Then his hand was there, where she ached for his touch, his fingers dancing upon her heated center.

“My lord!”

“Julian.”

“Julian, please.”

“You’re wet and hot for me, Lara. You were always hot for me, weren’t you, sweeting? Even when you were innocent of a man’s touch you wanted me, just as I wanted you.”

“Julian, I … can’t …”

“You can. For me, love. Come.” He pushed a finger inside her, working it in and out.

He groaned and grasped her hand, placing it on his erection. “Feel what you do to me? Oh God, I have to have you. I’ve never been like this with a woman before. I’ve always prided myself for my restraint, but you put my control to shame.”

Julian’s words barely registered as tremors shook Lara’s body. All her sensory organs were centered on his hand and the torment his talented fingers were putting her through. The tremors began deep inside her, traveling outward, making her skin tingle and the flesh beneath burn with incandescent fire. Needing something substantial to hang on to, she dug her fingers into his shoulders. Then the world shattered around her.

She regained her wits slowly. Julian hovered over her, his face taut with purpose as he eased her down upon the seat. Then he was inside her, moving forcefully, his breath exploding from his lungs in tortured gasps. Something inside her reawakened. Feelings intensified and sensations returned with renewed brilliance. Flames seared along her nerve endings. A shimmering light exploded inside her, until her body became one with it.

She felt Julian stiffen, felt his hot seed flood her body, heard him shout, then her mind went blank. She burst into a million pieces and died a little. Long moments later, she sighed and opened her eyes, dimly aware that someone was calling her name.

“Lara, wake up, sweeting. Someone is coming along the path.”

“Oh, God, what have we done?”

“We made love. Let me help you.”

Gathering her scattered wits, Lara sat up with Julian’s help and began fastening her clothing. Julian had already put his clothing to rights, for he looked as impeccably dressed as he had before they’d set out for the park.

“You had no right! I’ll never forgive you. Look at me, I’m a mess.”

“You look adorable,” he replied. “When we are husband and wife we can make love whenever the mood strikes us.”

Lara smoothed her hair and shoved it beneath her hat. “I was your wife, I
am
your wife, but you never saw it that way. I’ll not give you another opportunity to thrust me aside, my lord.”

“Fear not, sweeting, I will do what’s right this time.”

Julian pulled the rig back onto the path. Moments later another rig rolled past. The two male occupants nodded in polite greeting. Julian paid them little heed but before Lara turned away, something in her brain seemed to click. She recognized the man! He wasn’t dressed in rough sailor garb, but she’d vowed never to forget his face that day he and his companions barged into their camp looking for Julian.

“Is something wrong?” Julian asked. “Did you recognize those men?”

Lara shook her head. She could be mistaken. If she told Julian about her suspicions, he would insist upon investigating. Obviously Julian hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary.

“I’m just … upset, Julian. I never expected to encounter you in London, and after what just happened between us, I’m not sure we should see each other again.”

“A month should be sufficient time for the
ton
to get used to our engagement,” Julian said without any indication that he had heard her. “We’ll marry one month from Saturday at my country estate. There hasn’t been a wedding in the chapel since my grandparents were married there in the sixteen hundreds. We’ll make it a grand affair.”

“I hope you find the perfect bride,” Lara snapped. “You’ve said nothing to convince me that I should marry you.”

Lara bristled with suppressed indignation. Why couldn’t Julian accept the fact that they were already married? Why couldn’t he let the past go and love her? His fiancée was dead, life went on, the future beckoned. But there might not be a future if his enemies found him.

“Your father won’t object,” Julian continued. “We’ll announce our intentions in a few days.”

Lara gave a forlorn little sigh as Julian joined the line of carriages leaving the park. She wouldn’t be opposed to Julian’s plans had he indicated that he cared for her. Lust was a powerful emotion, but not substantial enough to bind two people together for a lifetime.

Julian pulled the carriage into the driveway and halted before the imposing entrance of the Stanhope mansion. He leaped to the ground and walked around to hand Lara down, but she hadn’t waited for him.

“Good-bye, my lord,” she said stiffly.

“I will call for you at nine tonight to escort you to the Ailsworth musicale.”

“I’m sure I’ll have a headache,” Lara defied.

“Lara,” Julian reminded her, “after this afternoon, you could be carrying my child.”

Lara sent him a frosty look. “I doubt that. Find yourself a woman more worthy than I of your exalted title. Excuse me, I feel that headache coming on already.”

“Nine o’clock, Lara, be ready,” Julian said in a tone that brooked no argument. “I’ll speak with your father tomorrow about our engagement.”

Lara tossed her head. A wealth of dark curls tumbled down from the top of her head as she stormed into the house. Julian stared after her. This stiff-backed, elegantly clad young lady looked nothing like the scantily garbed Gypsy temptress who had captured his fancy, but all the elegant clothing in the world couldn’t mask her fiery nature. He recalled with aching clarity how her lithe body, flashing legs, and unfettered breasts had tempted him beyond redemption. He wanted desperately to peel away the exterior layers of refinement and bare her wanton Gypsy soul.

Julian climbed into the carriage, picked up the reins, and tooled down the driveway. He hadn’t meant to take advantage of Lara this afternoon. He didn’t know what had gotten into him. For a man admired for his control, his lack thereof this afternoon had been a breach of his strict moral principles.

Two men watched avidly from their closed coach as Julian drove away from the Stanhope mansion.

“Are you quite certain Stanhope’s daughter is the same woman you saw in the Gypsy camp?” a tall, well-dressed man in top hat asked.

The second man, looking uncomfortable in formal servant’s garb, nodded enthusiastically. “Aye, my lord, the very same. She’s wearing fancy dresses now, but ’tis the same wench who insisted that the sick man named Drago was her husband.”

“Bah,” the nobleman scoffed. “They duped you. It had to be Mansfield, and I’d bet my best racer that he was wounded, not ill. The Gypsies were protecting him. Mansfield has the devil’s own luck. I want him dead, Crockett, is that clear? He infiltrated our ranks and is becoming a painful thorn in my side. It took persistent sleuthing to identify Scorpion, the agent bedeviling my operation, and now that I know Mansfield is Scorpion, he must be gotten rid of. He’s too close to unmasking me for comfort.”

“Aye, my lord. Leave him to me.”

“He won’t be easy to run to ground. He’s too canny.” The nobleman tapped a finger against his chin, his pale blue eyes narrowed in thought. “Perhaps the Gypsy wench holds the key. He’s already lost one woman he cared for. Should another be threatened, he may decide to give up his investigation. Our enterprise is too lucrative to let one man destroy it.”

“What about the girl’s father?” Crockett questioned. “Won’t he be a problem?”

“Leave Stanhope to me,” the nobleman said. “Here’s what you’re to do.”

The nobleman tapped on the roof with his cane and the coach lumbered forward. Inside, the nobleman whispered his plan to his henchman.

A message was waiting for Julian when he arrived home. Farthingale told him it had been delivered by a street urchin who swore he didn’t know the man who had paid him to deliver it. Julian stared at the missive, then took it into his study to read.

The note was a strongly worded warning. A threat, really. Whoever had sent it knew too much about Julian. The note, written in sprawling script, suggested that if the Earl of Mansfield valued his life and the life of a certain female close to him, he’d be well advised to drop his investigation.

Julian let out a string of curses. The implication of the message was clear. The Jackal knew he was Scorpion, knew he was close to unmasking him, and also knew that Lara was the Gypsy woman who had protected him. A nerve clenched in his jaw. His first thought was that he had to protect Lara whatever the cost. His second was to wonder if Stanhope was capable of harming his own daughter.

Julian sat at his desk and dashed out a note to Lord Randall, requesting a secret meeting, either during the musicale, if he was attending, or later that night. He sent it off with Farthingale, whom he trusted implicitly. An hour later Farthingale returned with Randall’s answer. Randall was going to attend the same musicale and agreed to meet with Julian sometime during the evening.

Lara’s first inclination was to plead a headache when Julian arrived that night to escort her to the musicale. But she feared he wouldn’t accept no for an answer. With her father pushing her toward an alliance with Julian, she had little hope of getting her own way in this. No one could force her to marry Julian, however. Not as long as a dead woman still held his love. He could beg and plead all he wanted, insist that she needed protection, but nothing short of a declaration of love would change her mind.

Another thing that bothered Lara was the fact that Julian considered their Romany marriage invalid. Well, two could play that game. If he refused to acknowledge it, neither would she, but she wouldn’t marry him for the reasons he had given her. It was obvious to Lara that once Julian had discovered she was an earl’s daughter, he’d felt obligated to marry her.

Furthermore, Julian’s line of work worried Lara. She had inherited a bit of her grandmother’s canny ability to “see” things, and she saw danger surrounding Julian. No matter what she did or did not feel for Julian, she was compelled to admit that she feared for his life. Therefore, she decided, it was up to her to see that nothing happened to him. With that thought in mind, she bathed and dressed for the musicale that night.