A Tale of Two Lovers (7 page)

Chapter 10

T
hat morning, Jocelyn’s exposé in the Man About Town’s column had hit the newsstands and breakfast tables all over London. At a ball that evening, Julianna was still seething. In the ballroom, she chatted briefly with Sophie and Brandon, then Lord Brookes, Lady Walmsly, and half a dozen others. All anyone wished to talk about was the Roxbury scandal, as it was being called.

All the while, Julianna glanced suspiciously from one elder gentleman to the next. One of them had to be the Man About Town, and she wished to vent her anger at him because of the trouble he caused her lately.

She ventured into the card room and sipped champagne and watched a high-stakes game progress. It was there that Roxbury found her and requested a waltz. The nerve. The audacity. That charming smile of his, tempting her to say yes and daring her to refuse.

Another woman might coyly murmur yes, with batting eyelashes and a simpering smile. She could never.

Music from the orchestra playing in the ballroom filtered in. The air was thick with smoke of men’s cigars. The conversations were kept to a low hum as fortunes were won and lost at the turn of a card. Julianna took another sip of her drink and tried to ignore him, but he asked her again.

“You are demented if you think I will,” she replied, after tossing him a sidelong glance and then dismissively looking away. She was too angry to look directly at him after that story in
The Times
this morning. Besides, she already knew about his velvety brown eyes, and slanting cheekbones, and his mouth—and that the women were right when they said it was made for kissing.

Jocelyn Kemble spilled everything to the Man About Town, and Julianna had no doubt that Roxbury was behind it. It glorified Roxbury’s prowess as a lover with a level of detail nearly unfit to print. It mentioned an interruption from another couple—a spinster and a dandy—which made Julianna’s color rise. Jocelyn described her boy’s costume for the play. The long and short of it was that the Lady of Distinction was made out to be a liar.

Julianna was vexed that she herself didn’t question Jocelyn sooner, and she was terrified of Knightly’s reaction when he saw she had missed such a golden opportunity.

What had she been thinking? She hadn’t. Actually, she’d been thinking about Roxbury, and his kiss, and more. Useless rubbish.

“Say yes, Lady Somerset. You know you want to,” he murmured.

“I don’t think I will, thank you.”

She was in a foul mood, and he was too tempting. The man was just too damned handsome for his own good. She was a tall woman but his intimidating height made her feel small. And one could just tell that he was well muscled under his evening clothes. There was a reason half the women in the ton had slept with him, and the other half wished to.

“I do not
think
you will. I
know
you will,” he replied easily.

“It would damage my reputation to be seen with you,” she told him. Then he pointed out what she was afraid of—

“Everyone in this room is already watching us talk. Anybody nearby is listening. You can only imagine what they must be thinking of us.”

She shrugged, as if she did not care in the slightest. Really, though, it was profoundly disturbing. Her reputation as a respectable matron—of one and twenty, mind you—was essential. Scandalous ladies were not invited out, and gossip columnists needed to be everywhere.

Being seen in a hushed conversation or waltzing with the likes of Roxbury would be damaging. There was no one more socially toxic than he at the moment.

But tongues were already wagging about the two of them—she could tell, just by looking around the room and catching all those lords and ladies quickly looking away.

“Waltz with me,” he murmured quietly, and leaning in close so only she could hear. It made her shiver and that was really why she couldn’t, wouldn’t, and shouldn’t do anything as intimate as waltz with him.

She always felt overheated and dizzy around him. Her wits were dulled and her judgment impaired. And then there was the chance that he might kiss her again—and that she would like it, which would lead to all sorts of trouble.

“I will not, thank you,” she reiterated, though she truly meant
I dare not
.

“Suit yourself,” he said, taking his turn to shrug. “I didn’t want to tell everyone that you are the Lady of Dist—”

“
Shhhh
.” Julianna stomped on his foot to emphasize her point. He did not appear inconvenienced or annoyed in the slightest. In fact, another glance told her that he was clearly enjoying this exchange.

“But I could,” he told her. Yes, there was definitely a spark of joy and mischief in his eyes. Her lips couldn’t help but curve into a smile. That legendary Roxbury charm was still operating to full effect.

“You wouldn’t,” she confirmed.

“Right here. Right now.” He taunted her and tempted her, and against all her wishes and better judgment, she was falling for it. Her cheeks felt hot and her heart was beating quickly out of nervous terror that he would just shout out her secret to the ton.

Frankly, it was amazing that he hadn’t already.

“Never,” she said.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Roxbury said loudly. A few people looked. She experienced a surge of terror. “This beautiful woman has agreed to waltz with me.”

That she could not refuse. Roxbury offered his arm to her, and she accepted grudgingly. Arm in arm they strolled from the card room to the ballroom, nodding and smiling faintly to the curious glances from acquaintances.

He was a rake, she was a widow. The conclusion was as obvious as it was false.

Roxbury smiled devilishly down at her as they assumed the position: her right hand in his, her left resting upon his shoulder. With his hand on the small of her back, Roxbury pressed her close. She felt trapped. Captive.

“Do not try to lead,” he said.

“We haven’t even taken a step yet,” she pointed out.

“Yes, but you look like the kind of woman who would try to lead,” he said with an air of authority, as if he could read women like books. Given his experience, he probably could.

“Why are you so desperate to waltz with me anyway?”

“Oh, I have many reasons,” Roxbury said, smiling. The first notes of the orchestra sounded and they began to waltz. He led superbly, so there was no need for her to.

“Enlighten me,” she requested.

“So that my tarnished reputation might rub off on yours,” he answered.

“Oh, how lovely,” Julianna said with excessive sweetness and a smile to match.

One, two, three. One, two, three.
They moved along to the steps in perfect time, together. She was surprised at how well they moved as a couple when every other interaction had them at odds.

“And so that I might gloat about the Man About Town’s column this morning, while holding you so that you cannot run away.” To prove his point, he urged her just a bit closer, and those butterflies in her belly stirred to life and began to flutter off the dust on their wings.

“Splendid,” she remarked dryly. He could not know his effect upon her!

“Lastly, thanks to you, it’s been some time since I’ve held a woman. You shall have to suffer my advances.”

“That’s blackmail!”

“I’m not sure it is. Regardless, I’m only asking for one dance, when I could demand so much more,” Roxbury said, but it didn’t sound like a threat. In fact, it felt like temptation. What was happening to her? She was made of sterner stuff than this! One dance with a scoundrel who smiled and murmured would not be her undoing.

But the memory of that kiss—his mouth hot on hers, his hands through her hair, the length of her body pressed against his—lingered, so vividly she could practically feel it. He might not even be tempting her at all, and she could merely be suffering from wishful thinking! Dear Lord, did this man make a mess of her.

“Granted, I do have enough information to blackmail nearly any woman in the ton. One learns a lot after years in bedrooms all over town, you see.”

“Yes, I see,” she said tightly. She saw that this was why he was not to be trusted, and why she must not succumb to temptation. Somerset had spent years in bedrooms all over town—the years before and during their marriage, to be exact. And with her young, handsome charmer of a husband, Julianna had also experienced the fluttering sensation in her belly, the heat of pleasure and the dizzying effects of infatuation.

In his own way, Roxbury tempted her to experience all that again. She could never go back to that life. She did not think she could survive it again.

“I thought I would take exceptional pleasure in tormenting you,” Roxbury told her. And he smiled, showing he truly did enjoy vexing her. Unfortunately, it was such a charming smile she couldn’t help but return it.

“That is so romantic, Roxbury. I might swoon.”

“Please don’t. I should like to carry on with the gloating,” Roxbury said joyfully.

Julianna made a move to go, but grinning all the while. Still, he held her close.

“It was a great maneuver to have Jocelyn speak to the Man About Town, was it not?” he began.

“Yes, it was. I am vexed that I did not think to speak to her first. Congratulations.”

“How did it taste to say those words, dear Julianna?”

“Like vinegar,” she replied pertly and Roxbury burst into a laughter that slowly faded into a big grin.

“Why are you smiling like that?” she asked suspiciously.

“I’m enjoying myself tremendously,” he said, sounding a little bit surprised himself.

“Enough for the two of us?” she queried tartly.

“Admit it—you are enjoying this, too,” he challenged, still smiling.

Julianna wanted to smile back, and to laugh, and to love being whirled around the ballroom in the arms of such a handsome and charming—if infuriating—young man. She wanted to savor this heat of pleasure, and the dizziness of desire.

“I cannot,” she confessed.

There was too much at stake, though. There was the fact that they were engaged in a very public battle over very scathing rumors. Reputations were everything, and they were on the line. Her position at
The Weekly
was on the line. Last, but not least, her body and her heart were in jeopardy. She had seen this play before; she had lived it, and had no desire to do so again.

It was all too much to gamble on with a notorious man like Roxbury.

Was she enjoying this, too? She had her moments. But she didn’t dare.

A
t the conclusion of the waltz, Julianna vanished into the crowds before Roxbury could whisk her off for . . . a kiss? More gloating? Another dance? An interlude on the terrace? She was obviously smarting over losing the latest round of their newspaper battle.

Roxbury knew not what his intentions were.

He did know she was not interested in whatever his intentions may be.

Roxbury had purposely limited experience with her type, but he was well aware what he was dealing with: a woman who had suffered a rake before. They were difficult ones to seduce, for they knew all the tricks and had experienced the consequences.

What did it mean that he was considering seducing her? Nothing. It meant nothing. He thought that about every woman. She was the only woman that could be cajoled into speaking to him at the moment and he had so craved the touch and the company of a woman. It had been too damn long.

It would behoove him to take a wife, though . . .

Jocelyn’s public confession in
The Times
did not have the effect he would have hoped. Women eyed him coyly again, but none dared to speak to him and he knew that none would be receptive to his advances.

A life of poverty was staring him down. Just short of three weeks remained before the earl would cut off his funds.

“Lord Roxbury,” a woman called his name. It’d been some time since he’d heard his name from a lady’s lips. Other than Julianna’s, that is.

It was Lady Hortensia Reeves.

“Lady Reeves, good evening,” he said, bowing to her. He saw her blush.

“Good evening,” she replied, and then, because he could see that she was nervous, he initiated a conversation on the weather, and then the party, to warm her up and bolster her confidence. Then when her cheeks were flushed and she was smiling, he knew she had gathered the courage to say what was really on her mind.

For once, it had nothing to do with her collections.

“I wanted to say how unfortunate it is that everyone has turned on you, Lord Roxbury. But now you know your true friends,” she said.

He smiled kindly at her, and wished deeply that he owned a modicum of attraction for Lady Reeves. Because then it would be so simple—they would marry, he would be rich and . . .

No, she would love him and he would destroy her with his infidelity.

Roxbury smiled kindly at Lady Reeves, clasped her hand, and thanked her sincerely. But then he caught sight of Julianna on the far side of the ballroom—tall, gorgeous, aloof, and dangerous. . . .