A Proper Scandal (Ravensdale Family Book 2) (36 page)

“It sounds lovely,” he agreed.

Alex looked to Bly Ravensdale next, swallowing nervously before he spoke. They had both come a long way from the day Bly knocked him out, but the man still gave the general impression that he would flay Alex alive if he hurt Minnie. The fact that she was currently living under his roof while unmarried had been a recent sticking point in their acquaintance. But that would be a delicate question to ask, and Alex feared for his chances as Minnie threw down her spoon and grabbed for her wine glass again.

“How are things with India, Ravensdale?” Alex knew that even though Bly had a title, he preferred to be addressed without ceremony.

James jumped in his seat, rattling the dishes on the table to such a pitch, the footman rushed forward to avoid spilled glasses. “Christ, Minnie,” her brother grumbled.

Besides Alex, Grace stifled a laughed and he couldn’t help but join in. Bly and Clara looked at each other, waiting for someone to issue a confession.

“Don’t be so clumsy, James,” Minnie said. She jumped in her seat, wine sloshing to the brim of her glass. Alex guessed that James had stomped on her foot as well. Only fair when she was acting like a spoiled monster.

“You’re both adults. I expect you remember to behave as such.”

Ah, Minnie mentioned Clara had been their governess. Apparently manners were, in fact, important to her. She seemed like the only person to care, though Grace was certainly groomed to be the sister of an Earl.

“Problem, darling?” Alex asked, biting off a large piece of crusty bread.

Her hand wrapped around her butter knife before Minnie stabbed a pad of butter and smeared it onto a slice of bread. “No, dear,” she answered through gritted teeth.

“Excellent. Now, Stamham, I heard that you’re working on a very exciting contraption.”

Minnie rolled her eyes as James prattled on about…well, it was beyond Alex. It was all scientific. The man clearly loved his machines. The others looked bored, but at least Alex had succeeded at making some connection.

Minnie interrupted before Alex could ask another question. “And Minnie,” she mocked, “I heard you’re starring in a new play. Please, do tell.”

Alex winked at her. It was the best alternative to throwing her over his shoulder and dumping her into a cold bath. Though a cold bath was becoming more likely as she threw her napkin to the table and rose, her chair squeaking as it was dragged backward. “I believe it’s time to retire to the sitting room,” she said, her arms stiff by her side.

“We have three more courses, Min.”

She winced and looked around to the others.

He shouldn’t have addressed her with such familiarity in front of her family. As if they didn’t understand she was already sharing his bed. “You never did tell us about your play. I think everyone would enjoy hearing the details.”

She stuck her nose in the air, turning her shoulders as if she was going to walk out mid-meal and leave Alex to host her family alone in the following awkwardness.

“Please do, Minnie.” Grace clapped her hands together.

“But if you’re not interested,” Alex continued, staring Minnie down, “we’re left with more pudding.” He waved his hand at her, dismissing her. “So, run along.”

Her shoulders sank with a deep exhale. “You can stuff your pudding,” she snapped, sinking down into her chair. The others laughed, but there was nothing funny about this to Alex. She had a family and she was pushing them away. He was jealous and his anger…well, he had never been one to rise quickly, but she was pushing his buttons. As he expected she knew quite well. He tilted his head and waited for her tantrum to play out.

Her lips curved into a smile as she lifted her wine glass and she winked back at him. “I prefer Cook’s soufflé, anyhow.”

*

There are days in one’s life that defined dread. A privileged runway who shunned her family never looked forward to that reunion. It seemed like it was the natural course of things for such a day to occur, so by the fourth course of dinner, Minnie gave up her fight and enjoyed sitting at a table full of her family. She had traveled oceans with them, exotic lands, and tamed wild beasts. And even if she didn’t admit it much, she missed them all dearly.

The others made their goodbyes and exited to the front hall, but her uncle stayed back. He turned instead of following the others and said, “I’m proud of you.”

Minnie laughed. It was one thing to have a family reunion sprung upon her, quite another to hear false praise. “Thank you for coming to dinner.”

“Bloody hell, pet, I was trying to be kind.”

“There’s no need.” She felt herself blushing as the guilt mounted in her stomach. Dinner had been delicious, but it was dangerously close to being shared with the parlor carpet. “I know what I have done to the family name.”

“Our family has never been one to bow to English conventions. The Ravensdales are wild things, Minnie. We go after the forbidden because it’s the natural order for us.”

Her uncle had never been one to mince words. Still, it made her pause before she answered. “I brought shame to everyone. And Grace. I must have hurt her chances for her coming out. It was selfish of me not to consider the consequences I created for everyone else to live as well because of my own.”

His hand rested on her shoulder. There was nothing small about her uncle, the tattooed diplomat. She remembered him most for his unparalleled cursing and the time he left her at Burton Hall with his nasty aunt and Clara, years ago now. She had only been five. Her life was a little better once he returned from wherever he disappeared to. He never spoke of it much, but she as she grew, she puzzled together that her cousin, Rhys, was born out of wedlock and that in itself was a scandal. He abandoned Clara, pregnant, leaving her alone with his family in England. He wasn’t the pillar of propriety, either.

“There are plenty of things I wish I could have done differently,” he said somberly, meeting her stare. “In the end, I still found happiness. If society wants to criticize, then let them. But I’ll tell you one thing, you had the courage to go after what you wanted, and I’m proud of you for that. I wish I would have listened and found a way for you to follow your dreams differently than how it happened. But I mean my praise.”

She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him as if she was still that small girl. “I’m sorry for everything,” she said. “For running as I did. For causing worry and scandal for the rest of you to deal with.”

“No, not for everything. You wouldn’t be an actress now if you didn’t run away. And I have it on someone’s good authority that you’re quite talented. What a waste that would have been.”

“The carriage has arrived, Bly,” Clara said, popping into the room. Minnie stepped back and wiped away the remnants of her tears.

He scratched at his jaw and looked as if he was about to say something, then nodded instead and followed Clara.

Minnie sank down onto the sofa for a time, staring at the untouched glass of brandy she had poured after dinner. She was afraid to get up for fear of another surprise around the corner. Eventually, she had to face Alex.

She didn’t knock. She didn’t think she owed it to him after what he had done this evening. He was at his desk as usual, his feet crossed over the desktop, his hands full of papers, shuffling madly.

Minnie leaned against the closed door, her hands folded behind her. She wasn’t certain if she wanted to rush up and hug the man or strangle him. When he didn’t say anything, she leaned toward strangulation. But when he turned in his chair, his face a controlled mask, she softened and pushed off across the room.

“I hate you,” she said.

Alex stopped thumbing through the thick stack of papers, his fingers smudged with ink. She admired the way he could look so refined and polished as he had during dinner almost passing as a gentleman, then become so beautifully undone afterward with his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his dark past present for her to bear witness to.

He rested the stack of papers against his lips, hiding behind them as he contemplated her over as though she were that troubling calculation in his precious club ledger.

“Why?” she asked. Her voice shook at his continued silence.

He tossed the papers onto the desk and swung his feet down, his hand scratching at his earlobe. “You have a family who loves you. I could not let you throw that away.”

She squeezed her hands behind her back, forcing her voice to remain calm. “But that wasn’t for you to decide. They are not your family.”

“At least you have a family,” he answered frankly.

Clever as always, pointed words aimed straight for her heart. “Yes.”

“You ran away because you wanted a life they would not allow. You achieved that. Superbly, I may add.” He waggled his brows for affect.

She couldn’t help but smile. Sometimes he was impossible to hate.

“But you aren’t a child anymore, and you’ve made an excellent life for yourself. Your family wants you, scandals and all. I don’t want you to regret pushing them aside when it comes to be too late.”

“I hate when you manage me.” He gestured for her to continue, so she obliged, the damn handsome scoundrel. “I hate when you look at me and I cannot read your thoughts.”

He sat up and threw his hand over the back of the chair. Again with an easy casualness that got under her skin. “I’m sure you have a list of my wrongs. Go on.”

“I hate that you’re always so sure of yourself.”

He flashed a grin.

“I hate that you pretend to know me.” She stepped closer, her breath short as her heart began to race in her chest.

“Make no mistake, I don’t pretend.” Alex stood and scratched the corner of his mouth. The sound of a late day’s scruff echoed between them. Minnie’s fingers burned to touch it for herself.

“I hate,” she started, stopping right before him, “when you’re right.”

“Is that so?” he whispered, drawing her against him. His grip was hard around her waist as he spun her backward against the desk.

“Yes.” But it was no use. Her hatred toward him, however misdirected, melted away. “And I hate—”

His lips came down on hers and possessed her to her very core. He made no apologies with his kiss. It was hot and searching, demanding and greedy. It was everything Alex never was and that toppled the last of Minnie’s resolve. When he released her mouth, she struggled to breathe and uttered, “I hate that I love you,” on a rushed exhale.

Her confession was out before she could take it back, but it didn’t matter. There was no dwelling on what she had said because Alex started kissing her again, trailing his tongue down her neck and nipping at her skin until she mewed. She pulled at his shirt as he tugged at her dress. It ripped as he pawed at the fabric as if he were desperate for her, as if he hadn’t just seen her for dinner, but had been apart from her for years. It was maddening, and she was easily swept up in it. She needed him in that moment as much as he needed her.

He shrugged off his shirt, letting it fall to the ground by his feet, as he pulled the laces of her corset and ripped it off her body, the bodice of her gown hanging, ripped around her waist. She fumbled at the buttons on his trousers, finally losing patience and pulling the fabric until the buttons popped off.

“Say it again,” he said, lifting her to sit up on the desk. He pushed back her skirts with one hand and pulled down the chemise over her breasts with the other.

“I love you.”

His ink-stained hands pulled at the fabric to expose her other breast, marking her as he did so, which was fitting as they were branding each other. She felt it. She knew it when his lips lowered to her breast and tugged at her nipple, causing a ripple of pain and pleasure to course through her body. Minnie clawed at him and pulled his hair, kissed his skin until she felt it growing tender under her lips, and dug her fingers into his flesh as he continued his assault on her body. He slipped a hand under her skirts and slipped a finger inside of her and when she moaned, he stuck in another, pushing and pulling until she was wet with need.

“Please,” she managed, pulling at his earlobe as if she were a savage. He leaned down and licked the underside of her breast. He plunged into her and she yelled out, clutching him tight as her body grew to a wild pitch inside. He didn’t slow. He was rough and animalistic and when he finally came inside her, she snapped forward and clung onto him, sweaty, and with his inked handprint over her heart.

“Do you hate me still?” he asked, brushing back the hair sticking to her face. She listened to the steady drumming of his heart, a full summer thunderstorm knocking at the caverns of his chest. His heart struck and rippled like thunder against her body.

“That is what I hate most about you,” she said, trying to breath. “I can never hate you.” She kissed the skin above his heart. “Not truly.”

Alex moved his lips softly from her forehead to the tip of her nose. “I love you, too.” He gave her the softest of kisses on her swollen lips. “Even when I didn’t understand it, I’ve loved you.”

“W
on’t you make an honest man of me?”