A Dash of Scandal (17 page)

He reached over and took hold of her hand that rested in the crook of his arm and gently squeezed. Damn the gloves. Damn convention. Damn Society. He wanted to feel her silky skin without the layers of cotton between them. He wanted to see her beautiful body completely unclothed. He wanted to touch her silken thighs and suckle her firm breasts. He wanted to—no, he had to stop that kind of thinking. It was getting difficult to walk.

He lightly shook his head and cleared his throat. If he was going to get through the afternoon without ravishing her, a change of topic was in order.

“You know, you really should have told me my friend Andrew Terwillger was the earl you thought had spent his inheritance and was looking to make a wealthy match.”

“I thought about it, but I couldn't take the chance that you would have warned him.”

“What would have been the harm if I had?” He remembered choking on the tart. “It was quite a shock for both of us.”

“But true. I have it on good authority.”

“I spoke to Andrew about it just this morning, but I didn't mention to him that you hinted he might be the thief among us. I don't think the poor fellow could have stood the blow. You need to keep him out of your column.”

“You know I can't do that. If I hear something that is scandalously intriguing, I must write about it.”

“I've known him for fifteen years. I think I would know if my best friend had squandered his money. I've seen no change in his lifestyle.”

“Perhaps there's a reason there's been no change,” she responded quickly.

Chandler was firm. “He did not steal the raven. He would not steal from me or anyone.”

Millicent remained calm, unperturbed. “Desperate men attempt dangerous things.”

He simply said, “Millicent.”

She looked up at him and relented. “However, I apologize if you think I was accusing your friend of being the Mad Ton Thief. I was merely pointing out possibilities.”

“In this case, there is no likelihood he's involved. If he were having trouble with his finances, he would come to me. Besides, there must be dozens of titled gentlemen who've been gamblers and spendthrifts with their inheritances.”

“But, did they attend your party?”

Chandler stopped and turned her to face him. “You may have something there. My dear Millicent, you are not only beautiful, but clever, too. I'll have Doulton check into who among the ton, is in debt, and we'll see if any of those names show up on the lists where there have been robberies.”

“That's a very good idea, sir. If there is not a stranger among the ton and it appears there isn't, then the Mad Ton Thief has to be someone's friend.”

He looked down at her and an urgent need to possess her filled him. She wasn't right for him. He wasn't good for her, but still he wanted her. “I could kiss you right here in front of everyone within sight of us.”

She stepped away and her eyes flashed a warning. “Do not try to do that, Lord Dunraven.”

“All right, I'll wait until I get you behind a tree.” He took her arm and slipped it through his arm again and continued their walk, but faster this time.

“There are no trees nearby.”

“No reason to sound so disappointed.” He smiled wickedly at her and winked. “There will be in a few minutes. I know the perfect spot.”

“I am not disappointed, sir,” she argued, but not with any real conviction. “And how dare you think to escort me to a place where you've kissed dozens of girls.”

He kept his tone light. “You are hard to please. Now you sound jealous.”

“And you, sir, are a cad.”

“But a likable one.”

She stopped. “Yes. You are incorrigible. It's true and it's my misfortune.”

“And my good luck.”

Suddenly Millicent turned away from Chandler and pulled on the crook of his arm with her arm, forcing him to turn around and head in the opposite direction.

“What are you doing?” he asked, not using any strength to stop her from guiding him.

“Not today, my lord. I will not let you endanger my reputation this afternoon. We are going to make this a proper outing if it kills us.”

He looked down into her eyes with appreciation and admiration. “All right. Today you win. No matter that I want to kiss you madly, I will respect your wishes.”

She took a solid breath. “Thank you for that small consideration.”

“You're welcome.” He liked that she didn't try to punish him for being forward.

Oh, hell, what don't I like about her?

They started walking toward the carriage. “We need to return to the subject of Lord Truefitt's column, because there's something else you should know.”

“What's that?”

“Andrew is thinking of hiring a Runner to find out who Lord Truefitt is so that he can expose him.”

“Oh, no! That would be disastrous. You can't let your friend do that.”

Chandler didn't like seeing real fear in her eyes. Would there be harm to her if Truefitt was revealed? He wondered again what could be between Millicent and the gossip writer. He didn't know, but it was time he did something to find out what hold he had over Millicent.

“You must tell Truefitt to keep Andrew out of the column and perhaps his temper will cool down. I'll do what I can, but Andrew has a mind of his own. I do believe he is serious about this.”

“Thank you for telling me.” Her voice was soft, uncertain, grateful. “I know you didn't have to confide in me.”

What was it he once heard?
A happy, gratified woman knows no bounds in love.
He had to stop thinking of things like that. It took him places he wasn't prepared to go.

“Quite frankly, I don't care what happens to Truefitt, but I don't want you hurt by anything that Andrew might do.”

Millicent smiled sweetly at him again. “Thank you. I'm indebted to you.”

Wonderful.

“I'll think of some way you can repay me.”

“No doubt.” She shook her head resignedly. “Why is it every time I convince myself that you are a true rake you do something astonishingly kind like this?”

“I've told you that I know how to behave as a gentleman, at times. Now, if you can't write about Andrew, I assume you will have to put me back in the cursed daily column.”

“You are a favorite.”

“How about Fines? He's only been in a time or two recently, or surely there is someone who would love to be mentioned and has felt neglected.”

Her eyes brightened like fire glowing in amber. “Chandler, that is a marvelous idea.”

“Marvelous? What?”

“Mentioning someone who has never or seldom been in the column.”

“Good lord, you're not telling me that the reason my name always shows up is because they haven't thought of naming someone else?”

Her lips twitched into a stunning grin. “Don't try to be dim-witted. You are much too intelligent.”

He loved it that she made no effort to hide her teasing. “And you are far too intelligent for your own good.”

“Thank you. It's no wonder tittle-tattle is so popular. Haven't you noticed that everyone seems to enjoy talking—about themselves or someone else? All you really have to do at a party is listen to what is being said around you. Maybe I'll ask Lord Truefitt to put in someone new, and to write something flattering.”

“Flattering? That would be a first.”

“If we can add Shakespeare, why not add nice?”

Chandler looked up at the wide blue sky and the only thing he could think was
“She is a woman, therefore may be woo'd; She is a woman, therefore may be won…”

“I will praise any man that will praise me.” Please allow this one a short indulgence. It has been heard on the streets and at the best parties that the Shakespeare quotes delight readers. Worry not. Wager if you please. The quotes will continue and you can hope that one day you will read your favorite line.

—Lord Truefitt,
Society's Daily Column

Bright sunshine fell on Chandler's face as he walked with Millicent back to the carriage. He was in a quandary. Should he speak to Doulton about hiring someone to make private inquiries about Millicent's family, her past, or should he leave it be because they had no future together? He was certain that she wouldn't tell him about herself. There was no use in asking again. And he was certain he didn't like the hold Lord Truefitt had over her.

He'd never intended to get so caught up by her. He couldn't recall ever having spent so much time thinking about one lady before Millicent. He hadn't known he was capable of it because he'd never felt serious about any of the young ladies he'd called on. Millicent made him feel different. She challenged him and he liked that.

But there was so much more. He wanted her. Not for sport or fun as it had been with all the ladies in his past. He felt differently about Millicent. It was a growing feeling that he hadn't been able to deny, dismiss, or understand.

Every time he thought about her, he wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her. Every time he saw her, he wanted to lie with her and feel the shape of her body pressed close to his. He wondered how she would feel beneath his hands, with her mouth warmly responding to his kisses and caresses.

“You're quiet again,” Millicent said.

Chandler sobered quickly.

He glanced over at her. Wispy strands of golden-brown hair had struggled free of her bonnet and framed her face attractively. She was much too young and too beautiful to wear her hair so severely tight. He liked the way her parasol perched above her straight shoulder and framed her with rows of feminine ruffles and ribbons. Chandler realized he liked walking with her on his arm.

He pulled her closer to his side and said, “No need to worry. Nothing is wrong. I was thinking again.”

“I noticed. You seem to be doing a lot of that this afternoon. What took your thoughts off what we were talking about and gained your fancy this time?”

“Hiring a Runner to find out who among the ton might be in embarrassing financial trouble at the moment.” He glanced over at her again and gave her a warning smile. “Not that I believe for a moment that Andrew is one of them, but I can see where having that information right now would be useful.”

Her deep amber eyes sparkled up at him from the cover of long, dark lashes. She smiled warmly at him. “I'm sure there are other things we can do to help the authorities find the thief if we just put some time into thinking about it. Sometimes I think we are the only two people in London who are convinced the thief is a man and not a ghost.”

He shook his head in wary amusement. “It's getting downright ridiculous what some people are saying about Lord Pinkwater's ghost.”

“Some members of Society are actually trying to make a game out of it.”

“I know.”

“And I've heard that at least two of the gentlemen's clubs are considering taking bets on whose house will be the next one robbed.”

“As unbelievable as it sounds, it's true.”

“I just had a thought. Have you given any consideration to the idea that the thief might be a woman?”

Chandler smiled down at her and slightly raised an eyebrow. “A woman? You jest.”

“Absolutely not, sir, I seem to remember only a few days ago you were more than willing to believe that I might be the thief.”

“No, no, Miss Blair. I thought you might be an accomplice working with the thief. I've since been enlightened about your real duties and why you take notes.”

Millicent rolled her parasol in her hand and said, “We should consider all possibilities. I was just thinking if you and the authorities are going to be looking at gentlemen who might be needing money, maybe you should also look at unattached ladies, too.”

“That is another idea to contemplate,” he admitted.

“The thief must be tall enough to have reached the items that were stolen without benefit of furniture to climb on. That would have taken too much time. I can immediately name Lady Lynette, Viscountess Heathecoute, and Mrs. Honeycutt, all of whom might be of that height.” She cut her gaze around to him. “Not that I think for a moment that any of them are capable of such a vile act as robbery.”

“But you were more than willing to lay the blame on my dear friend of fifteen years.”

“I can see you are not going to let me forget that slip of the tongue.”

“It's the slip of the pen that I had problems with.”

“It has not yet been proven that Lord Dugdale is in the clear.”

“I have no fear that it is only a matter of time and he will be,” Chandler said confidently.

“So then, are you going to hold a grudge?”

“Why shouldn't I when I love the way your eyes shine with indignation every time I mention it?”

“You do like to try to put me in a dither, but I won't let you. The day is too beautiful and I'm quite content.”

“Hmm. I know. You wouldn't let me kiss you a few minutes ago, even though I'm going mad to do so.”

“I've caught on to you and your machinations.”

“I'll just have to come up with a new plan.”

She laughed softly. “Don't you dare. You have already gone beyond the pale too many times.”

“But it's such fun.”

“I'll not be so easily caught by surprise again.”

“That sounds like a challenge too good to pass on.”

Millicent looked up at him with a serious expression on her face. “I do want to help you find the raven, Chandler.”

“I know you do, and I thank you for that. You've already helped by your suggestions. I suppose the thief could be a lady. Mrs. Moore is as tall as Lady Heathecoute.”

“You're right.”

“I'll have Doulton making some discreet inquiries about some of the ladies as well as the gentlemen.”

“We might as well include everyone we feel might possibly be a suspect.”

“I'll have him check the names he comes up with against attendance at the parties. But there's one thing that bothers me. How would a lady get the object out of the house? The purses ladies carry are so small, and a pelisse fits much too tightly to hide even the smallest of objects—unlike a gentleman's coat, which can be cut much fuller.”

“Hmm. You're right. Since we're only thinking in possibilities, I guess if it were a woman she could quickly open a window and place the items outside and come back later and pick them up.”

“Or even if it were a man he could do that or hand them to an accomplice who's waiting outside. That would be one way to get them out of the house without anyone seeing him.” He stopped and smiled. “Or her.”

“Tonight at the parties, let's both make lists of all ladies and gentlemen we think are tall enough to be the thief, and then we can compare notes.”

He chuckled. “You and your notes.”

They arrived at the carriage and Millicent turned toward him. He was reluctant to let her go. He wanted to continue holding her. When he looked down into her eyes, he realized from somewhere deep inside himself, he yearned for her. And maybe it was arrogant of him, but he sensed she desired him as much as he wanted her.

“Do you know how badly I want to kiss you?”

She sighed peacefully. “I believe you have already mentioned that today. Twice. Chandler, you have wanted to kiss many young ladies in your life.”

Her words sobered him. How could he let her know that she was not just one of many? She was special. He couldn't explain it to her, because he didn't understand it himself.

“I suppose it is difficult for me to live down my past.”

She gave him a smile filled with pleasure. “It's not necessary. I have enjoyed every kiss, every touch. And we have had very good luck not getting caught, but your antics must end. I must guard my reputation so that I will be able to go back home without scandal. Do not take this foolishness of slipping around to see me any further.”

“Millicent.”

“Let me finish, for this is important.”

He nodded.

“We have teased about a great many things today, and I have enjoyed it immensely. Now, I must insist that you not seek me out in secret again. Let me return home with the good reputation I brought to London.”

He had no argument. He wasn't prepared to offer for her hand, so it was time for him to respect her wishes. He cared for Millicent, he admitted to himself, and he didn't want to hurt her or her reputation.

“As you wish, my lovely lady, so it shall be. I will see you only at proper occasions.”

He gave her a quick, easy grin and wondered if she realized it was completely false. He reached for her hand and helped her into the carriage.

“Chandler.”

Damn.

He took a deep breath and turned to face Lady Lambsbeth. Annoyance pricked the back of Chandler's neck. With all the people in the park, how did she happen upon them? Chandler had hoped that after their meeting the other evening that Lady Lambsbeth would seek the attentions of someone else. He didn't want Lady Lambsbeth near Millicent.

“What a delightful surprise to see you here. How are you, Chandler?”

“Quite well,” he said stiffly.

“So, you've been out for a stroll this lovely afternoon.” She looked over his shoulder to Millicent. “And with such a fair young lady by your side. What a dandy you are.”

Fair?
Chandler bristled. Millicent was more than fair. Millicent's naturally innocent manner and beauty were what men's dreams were made of.

“As I recall,” Lady Lambsbeth continued, “you didn't use to enjoy coming to any of the parks. There were
other
places you'd rather spend your afternoons.”

Anger shot through Chandler, but he was determined not to let it show in front of Millicent. “If you'll excuse me, Lady Lambsbeth, we were just leaving.”

She placed her open hand on his upper arm and gently pressed his muscles. “Aren't you going to introduce me to your companion?”

He lifted his arm away from her touch. “No, I don't believe I will.”

“Ah—how rude of you, Chandler. Last year you almost had me convinced you were a gentleman.”

“Did I? How clever of me. I seldom consider myself a gentleman.”

“Well, if we can't call men like you gentlemen, what exactly are you called?” she asked, pouting her lips suggestively.

“Unforgiving. Good day, madam.”

Chandler climbed onto the curricle and took his place beside Millicent. The groom handed him the ribbons and he immediately snapped them against the horse's rump. The grays took off, leaving Lady Lambsbeth standing alone with her sensuous mouth agape.

Chandler kept the horses at a trot until they were out of the park. The carriage wheel hit a hole and almost bounced them off their seat.

“Sorry about that,” he said, without looking over to Millicent.

“I see it didn't take too many words for her to put you in an unfortunate temper. I'm sorry if you are unhappy she saw us together.”

Chandler threw Millicent a glance. “Damnation, no. I'm unhappy you saw her.”

“Is she a lady you only meet in secret?”

“She's no lady, and I don't meet her at all.” He stewed for a minute, then added, “She is Lady Lambsbeth. I'm sure you've heard all the gossip about us so I won't recount a word of it. We didn't part on friendly terms, and I intend to leave it that way.”

Millicent remained quiet.

He pulled back on the ribbons and slowed the horses to a walk. He didn't want to hurry the trip home, he'd just wanted to get Millicent away from Lady Lambsbeth.

“You're right. She put me in a foul temper, and I shouldn't have let her. I've told her I have no desire to pick up our relationship where we left off, but I'm not sure she knows I'm serious yet.”

“I believe your show of rudeness went a long way toward doing that today.”

He looked over at her and smiled. With the most guileless of statements, she could make him feel so good. “You really think so?”

“Without a doubt.”

“I might finally be rid of her?”

“I would say, sir, that there is a very good chance you will be called the brute of London by all her friends.”

“Will you tell Lord Truefitt about it so he can put it in his column?”

“At the earliest possible moment.”

What had gotten into him? He was suggesting she put his name in the gossip column and he was teasing about Lady Lambsbeth. Had he gone daft? And why did he feel it was so important that Millicent know that he was no longer involved with Lady Lambsbeth?

Chandler realized he was changing. His life was changing and it was all because of Millicent.

“Good. Now, what were we talking about before we were interrupted?”

“I believe we were talking about making lists and going over them.”

“We had finished that subject. We were talking about how much I wanted to kiss you.”

“No, Lord Dunraven, I believe we had finished that subject as well. May I suggest we talk about what a lovely day it has been.”

“Why not?” he said with no enthusiasm and turned his attention back to the ribbons.

One unimportant subject was as good as another.

He had promised to behave, and he would, but why couldn't he bear the thought of never kissing her again?