Every Scandalous Secret (13 page)

Unable to form words, she gestured to her sketchbook.

“Once again, you haven’t drawn my face.”

She licked her lips. “I’m—I’m not finished yet.”

With his foot, he kicked the sofa farther away, and she gasped. He caught her up by the shoulders, and her sketchbook tumbled to the floor. Her feet, numb with disuse, had trouble finding the ground. She fell against him, and he took her weight.

Her palms rested on his bare chest, rising and falling with his breath. His skin was hot and damp, twisting something deep inside her tighter and tighter. She slowly looked up his neck, and past his square jaw into his face. Those jungle green eyes were narrowed as he watched her, all humor gone, and suddenly she felt a sense of smoldering danger.

She pushed away from his chest and freed herself. “My sketchbook.”

As she knelt, searching in the shadows for it, he said, “Perhaps you should draw yourself into the picture. You could be standing behind me, a maiden of ancient times, as I defend your honor.”

She didn’t look at him, her face so hot she felt burned. “I could never do that.”

As she slid her sketchbook out from beneath the sofa, she heard movement behind her, then turned to find him squatting until they were almost at eye level.

“Never draw yourself?” he asked. “You’ve never looked in a mirror and drawn what you see?”

“I—I—”

He reached for her spectacles and slid them off her nose, blindly setting them on a table behind him. “There’s nothing wrong with this face. You could capture those high cheekbones.” He slid his fingers along her cheek.

He was too close, his thighs spread, his upper body gleaming in the candlelight. She tried to scuttle backward, and ended up falling onto her backside beyond the sofa, staring up at him, feeling a sinful heat work its way deep into her belly and spread outward, taking over her body, until her hands itched to touch him, her mouth burned to taste his damp skin.

He knelt on either side of her legs. With a mortifying gasp, she sank back on her elbows.

“Your mouth is wide and full,” he continued, staring down at her.

“Too big.”

His smile seemed fraught with tension. “No man would think that.”

She could not keep her eyes on his face though she tried her best. She was so used to examining and evaluating, determining line and shadow and form, that her gaze naturally slid with sinful slowness down his body—or so she told herself. He let her look, saying nothing. How had she not seen this morning that the hair scattered across his chest narrowed as it went down his stomach?

And she followed it helplessly, past his waistline until she saw the proof of his desire, straining against his trousers. She was no ignorant girl; her anatomy sketching had given her knowledge many young women didn’t have.

Leo wanted her, and he wasn’t trying to hide it from her.

And then he lowered himself over her, dropping onto his hands and knees. She sank back, holding her breath beneath his smoky regard. His hands were on either side of her hips, lost in her skirts. She found herself mesmerized by the way he studied her.

“This isn’t fair,” he murmured. “You get to see much of me by candlelight, or in sunlight, and I never get to see you.”

“But—but—”

“I want to see the candlelight glimmering on the bare curve of your hip.”

She gaped, barely able to breathe, as he lowered his head and pressed his mouth to the edge of her hip. Though she wore layers of clothing, it felt scandalous to have his face so close to her thighs. Every limb was shaking, not with fear, but with the most incredible sensations of . . . pleasure. Bone-melting, skin-heating pleasure that seeped throughout her body. She’d never felt this before—never imagined that Leo could inspire such feelings.

“As you lie on your back,” he continued, his voice deep and husky, “your stomach dips inward.” He slid his cheek from her hip and along her body until he reached the center of her. “There’s a shadow cast by candles deep in your navel, but were you naked, I would slip my tongue there anyway.”

She’d lost control of her limbs, quivered and shook beneath him as he continued his slow climb up her body.

“And then we reach your breasts.” His voice was filled with hoarse satisfaction. “Creamy globes to fill my hands, my mouth.”

Breathing quickly, frantically, she pressed her thighs together, but that didn’t help the ache that was building. She felt a desperation for his touch, a feeling that only he could quiet her body.

He lowered his head just above her left breast, then met her eyes. “Should I?” he whispered, his lips faintly grazing her bodice.

Her lips parted but couldn’t form words.

“I’ll take that as assent.” And then he opened his mouth and covered her breast right through her garments.

The pressure, so new and intense, made her jerk beneath him. “Leo!” She breathed his name, even moaned it.

After nipping at her breast, gently biting at her nipple, he took her hands and pulled them up over her head. “Like the painting,” he said.

She didn’t care about the wager at all. She was caught in a world of new sensations, new feelings, her body alive in a way she’d never imagined. She arched beneath him, and for the first time wished she were wearing nothing at all. It was scandalous and wicked—and so very, very tempting.

His face rose just above hers, and she almost begged him to return to her breasts.

He smiled, as if he knew everything she was thinking, and delighted in it. Slowly, so slowly he lowered his mouth over hers, hesitating just above her lips. She couldn’t get enough air—and then she had to admit it—she couldn’t get enough of his kisses. She lifted her head, straining toward him, their lips touched—

And then Leo was shoved off her.

She gasped as Leo rolled until he was on his knees again. Above her, she saw the red, angry face of Lord Bramfield, stout in his dressing gown over trousers and shirt.

Hands on his hips, Lord Bramfield said, “Mr. Wade! How dare you abuse a female guest in my home!”

Susanna felt shocked into speechlessness, as weak as a doll when Lord Bramfield helped her sit up.

“There, there, Miss Leland, you’ve had a terrible shock,” he said, patting her shoulder awkwardly.

For a moment, she stared up at him, feeling as dizzy as she must look, if his concern were any indication. Hovering just behind him, she saw Lady Bramfield, eyes brimming with tears beneath the wispy, gray curls on her forehead.

The shame of what Susanna had done suddenly swept over her, and she wished she could sink beneath the wood floor. They had seen her . . .
beneath
Leo, like a common—

And then she realized what Lord Bramfield had said, what he’d implied—that Leo had forced her.

Though she’d avoided looking at him, now she slowly turned her head. Leo had risen to his feet, his arms folded across his bare chest, watching her impassively. He made no protest, no excuses.

Would he be just as silent if she let Lord Bramfield believe a lie? Part of her knew that Leo courted censure, that his behavior made everyone think the worst of him. If she lied, no one would know—Lord Bramfield would never tell anyone what happened here tonight, she knew. They were close friends of her parents, would protect her.

But they’d think far worse of Leo, might even make certain he was no longer accepted in the
ton,
even if they never said why. The marquess had that sort of power.

And Leo would accept it, she realized. In his own way, he had proven an honorable man. She felt nauseated at the thought of such lies. There was even a chance that Lord Bramfield would call Leo out as a point of honor. She couldn’t let that happen.

She struggled to her feet, glad that Lord Bramfield kept his arm about her. The world tilted at the thought of what her own stupidity had cost her, how her future was now warped and ruined. But she wouldn’t add cruelty and lies to her sins.

“Lord Bramfield,” she began hoarsely, “I cannot let you think that Mr. Wade would—would deliberately harm me.”

Leo’s eyes narrowed, and he opened his mouth.

She rushed on. “He did nothing I didn’t ask for in my foolishness.”

Lord Bramfield stiffened.

His wife gasped, covering her face with both hands. “Oh, Miss Leland, no!”

Lord Bramfield took her upper arms and gently shook her until she was forced to stare into his face. The first tears trickled down her cheeks, and she felt mortified and heart-broken and weary all at the same time.

“Miss Leland, you must speak honestly. Are you certain you were a willing participant in . . . whatever was going on here this night?” He glared at Leo. “Make yourself decent, Wade.”

Leo suddenly looked furious, an emotion almost shocking on his usually amused face. “Susanna, don’t—”

“I’ll have no intimidation from you,” Lord Bramfield interrupted with anger. “Let her speak freely.”

Leo meant to protect her. She could see his jaw clench as he pulled his shirt over his head.

“I’ve spoken the truth, my lord,” Susanna said, then forced herself to glance at Lady Bramfield. “And I’m so sorry for my behavior.”

“I have heard rumors these last few days about the two of you,” Lord Bramfield said, his demeanor growing impassive.

She could not hide her wince, could feel herself lessening in his eyes. She, who’d never wanted to be at the center of attention, had brought a terrible focus upon herself.

“And now this,” he continued. “Miss Leland, you have brought the risk of ruination upon yourself.”

She nodded, but could not help speaking with faint hope. “But only you and Lady Bramfield know about my stupidity. I’ll leave here, and if you would say nothing—”

“No, it is too late, my girl,” he said heavily. “As my wife and I were coming down the stairs, we both saw someone running away from the doorway to this very room. It was too dark to discern who it was.”

Susanna closed her eyes and bowed her head. “Then I should leave.”

“You’ll leave, but only to marry Mr. Wade.”

Her mouth fell open. Marry Leo Wade? Lord Bramfield didn’t know what he was asking, how opposed she was to the very idea. He was nothing like the man she wanted for her husband, and any woman married to him might soon be a laughingstock because of his reckless behavior.

She looked frantically at Leo, needing him to protest and stop this foolishness.

But he spoke softly, unemotionally. “Of course, Lord Bramfield. I will make this situation right.”

“Leo!” she cried, aghast, but using his Christian name was the wrong thing to do, as Lord and Lady Bramfield looked at her in dismay and disappointment.

Chapter 10

“S
he is in shock,” Leo heard himself saying. “And that is my fault, too, my lord.”

Bramfield nodded, and Leo glanced at Susanna once more. Her face was bloodless, although a moment ago she’d been red with shame.

She could have let him take the blame—and he would have deserved it. He’d played this game more than once and had almost been caught. He’d even vowed to stop, knowing the risks he was taking with a woman’s reputation. Any other woman would have gladly let Bramfield assume the worst about him.

But not Susanna, and he respected her for it, even though his own frustration felt like a simmering volcano. He knew the kind of wife he wanted, the simple, easily pleased woman he needed, who wouldn’t ask too much of him, wouldn’t demand to know him down to his soul.

Susanna wasn’t anything like that.

Whether she’d posed for that painting or not didn’t matter—she’d been a part of the challenge, had started this whole craziness, and now they both were going to pay the price.

“Mr. Wade,” said Lord Bramfield, visibly relaxing, “I am not certain you can wait to make things right.”

“I won’t, my lord. I’ll purchase a Special License.”

“No!” Susanna interrupted.

“Be quiet, child,” Lady Bramfield said, putting her arm about Susanna’s shoulders. “You are not in your right mind. This is for the best.”

“But I don’t want to marry him,” she whispered.

Leo was surprised to feel a faint sting at her words but shrugged it off.

“Think of your family, my dear,” Lady Bramfield continued. “They want what’s best for you. They don’t want you to be shamed. Nor should you shame them.”

Susanna bit her lip but remained silent, to Leo’s weary gratitude. He wanted this evening over with, and her futile protests weren’t helping.

“Let me tuck you into bed,” Lady Bramfield said in a soothing, motherly voice.

Susanna didn’t look at him as she was led away. Leo had his waistcoat and coat on by the time Bramfield frowned at him.

“I can trust your word, Wade?”

He stiffened but answered evenly. “On the life of my brother, my lord. I will make this right.”

But he knew Susanna might be her own worst enemy. After a final discussion with Bramfield, Leo went up to his room, then crept down the balcony of Susanna’s wing to her room. Through the French door, he could see Lady Bramfield tucking her into bed. Although he should perhaps pity Susanna for the stark sadness he could see on her face, he didn’t feel quite in the mood for that. They’d both have to live with what was being forced upon them.

Marriage. Together forever, two people who didn’t suit.

He rubbed both hands down his face, then stared through the window as Lady Bramfield departed. If Susanna cried into her pillow, he wasn’t certain what he would do.

But instead, she flung back the counterpane, sending the candle flame fluttering, as she began to furiously pace.

He opened the door, and she came to a halt, glaring, then advanced on him. She hadn’t taken the time to braid her hair, and it flew behind her like a cloud of red fury, rippling erotically down her shoulders and back. She looked even more appealing, which was a good thing, since they would be stuck with each other throughout eternity.

He held out his upraised palm, where her spectacles lay. “You left these behind.”

She snatched them away and pointed her finger at him. “I’m not going to marry you.”

“You don’t have a choice. After all, you could have let them believe the worst about me, and you’d have been safe. Why didn’t you?”

She opened her mouth, then groaned and whirled away from him. “Much as you are a rake and a scoundrel, you tried to absorb the blame all yourself, so I would never condemn you with a lie.”

“You would have saved yourself and done little harm to me. What do I care if they don’t receive me anymore?”

“Oh, you’d care if all of Society didn’t receive you,” she shot over her shoulder, “or if your brother suffered because of our stupidity. Just as I’d care if my family found out.”

“You’re being overly dramatic.”

“Am I? Did you not see Lord Bramfield’s fury? He is a good friend of my father—he would have felt obligated to call you out on my behalf.”

“So you were also protecting the old man,” he said.

“I was. But once I leave here, he will think differently, perhaps wash his hands of me, or leave me to my family when I don’t marry you.”

“Of course you’re marrying me.”

“Keep your voice down!”

They glared at each other, and he was shocked to realize she meant exactly what she’d said.

“I guess what I took for intelligence on your part,” he said, “doesn’t include common sense.”

“Someone has to consider the future. We do not suit. You don’t want to marry me, and I certainly don’t want to marry you.”

“Our feelings don’t matter,” he said. “I almost ruined another woman’s life, and I vowed I would never let that happen again.”

“You think showing a hint of honorability will alter my opinion? I know the kind of man I want to marry, and you aren’t he.”

“Don’t believe yourself my ideal wife, either,” he said dryly.

Now she flinched, and he almost regretted his honesty.

But she needed to hear the truth. “You know if we don’t marry, this night’s events will quickly spread. We don’t know who saw us, or who might gleefully do us harm. We owe it to our families—”

“If you truly cared about your family, you wouldn’t have behaved the way you have for so long. And the way you were flirting with every young lady here, you could have randomly been trapped with any of them and been facing any of their families.”

“Jealous?” he taunted.

“Why would I be jealous?”

“Perhaps it would have been better had you left me to Miss Randolph’s manipulations.”

“You’d probably have been happier.”

“Or perhaps you were saving me for yourself.”

“Don’t be a fool. You have provoked me beyond measure, taken advantage of my innocence—”

“You are not nineteen, Susanna. According to you, you’ve posed nude. You damn well knew what you were doing. And you never pushed me away.”

They both had their hands on their hips, leaning into each other’s faces.

“My family will save me from a terrible marriage,” she said in a furious voice.

“Your family will want you safely married, so that when word gets out about how we were found—and it will get out—at least it will look like foolish love, rectified by a proper ceremony.”

“You don’t love me,” she said indignantly, “and I could never love you.”

Though her words were true, he was surprised to find they made him uncomfortable. “So you planned to fall in love with Tyler?”

She blinked at him before looking away as if to hide from the truth.

“You cannot deny that your plan was to marry someone like Tyler, someone who was safe—someone you didn’t passionately love.”

She drew herself up, eyes flashing. “I would have learned to love him because I respect him. I wanted that above all.”

“You don’t have to respect me,” he said between his teeth. “But you will marry me.”

She opened her mouth, but he turned his back and returned to the balcony. Though he wanted to slam the door hard, he closed it with such gentle control it didn’t make a sound.

S
usanna was so furious as she stormed about the room, she found herself wondering why she hadn’t let them pin all the blame on that foolish, arrogant man. Marry Leo Wade? The mere thought frightened her. However he made her body feel, that was nothing upon which to base a marriage.

So what if he admitted he’d almost ruined another woman’s life. Susanna was not about to suffer because of his past mistakes. She’d rather live with the shame.

When she heard a soft knock on the main door, she almost locked it, thinking it must be Leo again. But he wouldn’t come through that way.

“Susanna, may I come in?” Caroline called softly.

Had Lady Bramfield spoken to her already? How many other people would find out? Susanna decided she would be gone before breakfast, even if she had to walk. She never wanted to see Leo Wade’s face again.

She opened the door, and Caroline stood there, watching her with such compassion that Susanna felt the first sting of tears she’d been controlling since her foolishness had been discovered.

Caroline stepped through the door and closed it. “My mother told me you will soon be married.”

With a groan, Susanna whirled away and covered her hot face. “Oh, how many more people will she tell?”

If Caroline thought Susanna was slandering her mother, she didn’t betray her thoughts, only laid her hands lightly on Susanna’s shoulders.

“I am the only one, and only because she knew I might be of comfort to you.”

Shuddering at the sweet concern in her friend’s voice, Susanna sagged onto the chest at the end of the bed, and Caroline joined her. “I am not getting married,” she said in a low voice that broke, revealing her foolish vulnerability. If she was embarrassed that Caroline knew the truth, imagine how she would feel when Mr. Tyler . . . She couldn’t even swallow because of the lump of shame in her throat.

“My mother says you and Mr. Wade were kissing.”

Susanna wondered if Lady Bramfield had said
how
they were kissing: she’d been lying on the floor, and he’d been crawling up her body, putting his mouth—

Oh, even now she could hardly think about what she’d let him do. Away from his influence, it seemed crazy, delusional. But when she’d been with him, he’d taken away her every inhibition, had altered her very will. If only she could take it all back.

“And there was someone else in the hall watching you?” Caroline continued.

Susanna could only shrug, staring at the carpet muted with shadows.

“Then you must marry him,” Caroline said with easy conviction. “It is not such a terrible thing.”

Susanna gave a very unladylike snort.

“When I questioned you about Mr. Wade, I suspected you might feel more for him than you wished to let on.”

“I feel nothing for him,” she countered in a low voice. “This has all been . . . a terrible mistake.”

“But you were kissing him, Susanna, and Mama swore to me that Mr. Wade was not forcing you.”

How could she say that he’d been seducing her, had
told
her he’d attempt to seduce her? Caroline would demand to know why Susanna hadn’t confided in someone, so that Mr. Wade could have been sent away.

No,
she thought,
I was convinced I could control him, that I had the superior mind. I enjoyed the game and trying to best him.
But it seemed she had a lot to learn about her body’s superior will.

“No, he wasn’t forcing me,” she admitted at last. “Don’t ever be alone with a man, Caroline, for you don’t know what you’ll do in the heat of the moment.”

Her friend sighed. “I wouldn’t have believed it, but if
you
could so easily . . . succumb to a man’s charm, then anyone can.”

“Me?” Susanna said, stiffening. “What do you mean?”

“You are so intelligent, so confident in yourself.”

Susanna’s chuckle was bitter. “I have never been confident where men are concerned, and if I gave you that impression, I should have been on the stage. I’m obviously not intelligent either, as I’m sure you’ve realized.”

“No,” Caroline said, taking her hand. “I’m thinking that you are not the only woman taken in by a man. But he wants to marry you, and that is promising for his character. From what I heard before I knocked, you’re resisting.”

Susanna stared up at her taller friend. “What did you hear?”

“I could not make out the words, but I knew he’d come to see you, and I heard your refusal.”

“Would
you
want to marry such a man, with his terrible reputation?”

“Many men enjoy themselves far too much before marriage. My mother once hinted that my father was quite the scoundrel.”

The thought of old Lord Bramfield as a rake at last made Susanna’s lips quirk in a faint smile.

“And he made a very good husband and father,” Caroline added.

“I am glad for your sake, but Leo—Mr. Wade is not the same sort of man.”

“Whatever sort of man he is, you’ve been very drawn to him. I could not mistake the tension between you, and I know others felt the same.”

Susanna could only groan.

“It is a good start, my dear, far better than indifference.”

“He has only been using me.” Susanna allowed her bitterness free rein, without thinking of the words.

“Using you?” Caroline echoed, frowning.

Susanna could not tell her about the wager.

“If you mean for your dowry, you must be practical, Susanna.”