Every Scandalous Secret (22 page)
Susanna wouldn’t have thought her distracted, scholarly father capable of such emotion. He didn’t glance at her, but focused his attention on Leo, whose expression remained pleasant.
“Oh, Susanna,” Lady Rosa said, “I had almost given up hope at seeing this day come.”
Susanna felt her own stirring of hope. “I had once thought the same, Mama, but Mr. Wade convinced me otherwise.” He could convince angels to descend to earth if he wanted to.
Her father’s frown only deepened. Leo had certainly seen such disapproval before. But for once, she’d wanted him to be faced with something better, to know he could be accepted for who he was, for the man he could become with her help.
“Wade—” the professor began in a low voice.
“Randolph, please,” Lady Rosa interrupted. “We can ask questions at dinner. But for now, let the children go recover from their travels. I’m certain they have so much to tell us,” she added brightly, pointedly. “Especially about the wedding. I wish . . . ah well, one always imagines watching one’s daughter marry.”
Susanna winced. It might be a long time before her mother could forget that.
“And we have so much to tell them,” Lady Rosa added.
Susanna’s attempt at a relieved smile faded. “Mrs. Townsend mentioned some excitement in London?”
At last her father looked at her, then cleared his throat, speaking gruffly, but still with love. “Go change, my dear. We have all night to talk.” Another pointed glance at Leo. “I’ll have Mrs. Townsend prepare a suite of rooms.”
“No, that won’t be necessary,” Susanna said. “We’ll simply take my usual room. It’s large enough, with its own dressing room, so the servants won’t have to move my belongings.”
When Leo arched a brow, she belatedly realized she hadn’t even allowed them the fiction of separate beds.
Well, her parents were married, too, and recently reunited in quite a romantic way. They would simply have to get used to it.
L
eo had been prepared for a girlish room of ribbons and lace, but then, that wasn’t his Susanna. Instead, almost every inch of wall was covered in paintings, watercolors, oils, even the occasional framed sketch. He peered at the signatures, but to his surprise, they weren’t hers. They must have provided inspiration. But did not her own work inspire her?
Behind him, he heard Susanna let out a great sigh and turned to find her slumping back on her bed, arms spread wide, eyes closed.
“If you insist,” Leo began, leaning over to pin her arms and planning to kiss her senseless.
But she turned her head away. “Leo!” She practically hissed his name.
“You did make certain we shared a bedroom. That was brave of you.”
She struggled until he released her, then surged to her feet to face him, hands on her hips. “I wasn’t even thinking. And my father’s expression!” With a groan, she slapped both hands over her face.
He pried several fingers away so she could see him. “We’re married. Every father of a daughter must accept such a thing at some point in life. You simply waited longer than most.”
“Ooh!”
She gave him such a push that he staggered back and caught the bedpost with one arm.
“My, such strength. I have ideas what to do with it.”
“Please, can you be serious for once?”
He bowed dramatically. “I imagine you wish to discuss your parents’ ignorance of our marriage?”
“Yes! If they don’t know, no one in London does, for the news would surely fly. Lord Bramfield said he saw someone watching us. I cannot believe such a person would remain quiet.”
“Or he lied to protect you by forcing my hand,” Leo mused. “I wonder what he told the other guests about our mutual disappearance.”
“Lied?” she echoed, distraught. “You mean we wouldn’t have had to . . .”
“No, he felt I’d taken advantage of you, that it was only a matter of time before others knew. And he was right. You cannot blame him.”
“I don’t,” she said, walking to the window seat and sitting down.
She kept her head turned, eyes on the horizon, and Leo could see why. All of the rolling hills of the countryside spread out before them, with the sun hovering low in the sky.
“How can I blame him,” she continued, “for what the two of us were doing?”
“You can blame me. It would be the truth. I told you I meant to seduce your secrets away from you. Hell, I haven’t even done that yet.”
She sent him a wry smile. “I was not naïve about your motives, or my response. And I thought myself so capable of resisting. No,” she said, hands slapping her thighs as she rose, “this is as much my fault as yours. So I suggest we accept the consequences.”
“Spoken like a rebel.” When she walked past him, he caught her by the shoulders and kissed her. “It will be fine. Your mother likes me.” He flashed his dimples.
With a roll of her eyes, she said, “Women do, it seems.”
But at dinner, Leo experienced the unease he was trying not to show for Susanna’s sake. He’d hoped there would be more people in attendance, but all were in London for the Season except the four of them. The impressive dining room could have seated fifty, so they headed toward one end of the massive table while the servants began to arrive with the first course.
“This is the only dining room?” Leo whispered to Susanna before they were separated.
“Of course not. But I think intimidation is coming into play.”
Her father gestured for Leo to sit alone on one side of the table, while Susanna and her mother sat on the other side.
“Mr. Wade,” the professor said as he took his seat at the head of the table and nodded to the waiting footman, “my wife tells me that your brother is Viscount Wade.”
“Yes, sir.”
“An impressive and upstanding man.”
“For our entire lives, to my dismay.” He grinned.
The professor did not respond in kind.
“I have a sister, Georgiana, who is engaged,” Leo continued, straightening so that the footman could ladle soup into his bowl. “My grandmother and mother occasionally reside with my brother. That is the sum of my family.”
“As a younger son, what plans had you made for yourself?”
“I invest my money, sir, but I fear I was never meant for service under God’s eyes or the Queen’s.”
Leo knew he wasn’t the sort of man the Lelands had wanted for their daughter. He had thought he wouldn’t care if they assumed he was after her for her money or ducal connections, but he found it bothered him in a way he hadn’t imagined, and he wasn’t certain why. At least Lady Rosa smiled at him.
“And what money do you invest?” Professor Leland pointedly asked.
“My gambling winnings, sir.” He took another spoonful of his oxtail soup.
“Gambling winnings tend to disappear as fast as they arrive. Will you then make use of my daughter’s dowry?”
“I have already sent word to my solicitor that Susanna’s dowry is to be put in trust for her and our children.”
The professor blinked at him, then said, “A sound decision.”
It was as if a sigh emerged from all their lips. Leo saw that even Susanna stared at him, not masking her surprise. Well, he’d always told her he didn’t care about her money.
And then she smiled at him, not bothering to hide a show of happy tenderness. Her eyes were soft and lovely, and he realized he could look at her all day. Or a lifetime. Then she winked and turned to her father, leaving him feeling . . . bemused.
“Papa, I can hardly contain my curiosity. What news was Mrs. Townsend referring to?”
Lady Rosa clapped her hands together. “You are not my only daughter to find happiness. Rebecca and Lord Parkhurst are engaged!”
Leo watched Susanna’s jaw drop, even as she sent him a wide-eyed stare. He shrugged, rather surprised himself that straightlaced Julian had so quickly fallen under Rebecca’s spell. Unless something like their own situation had occurred. . .
“And Rebecca is . . . happy?” Susanna asked with obvious hesitation.
“I have never seen her eyes sparkle like this,” Professor Leland admitted, a smile relaxing his face.
“And Lord Parkhurst looks upon my dear daughter as if she were his sun,” Lady Rosa said dreamily.
Susanna squeezed her mother’s hand. “That is wonderful news. I cannot wait to hear all about it.” Another surreptitious glance at Leo.
“But that’s not the only news,” Lady Rosa said with an excited laugh. “Your cousin Elizabeth is also engaged, and you’ll never guess to whom! Peter Derby!”
Good God, Leo thought, how had one drunken wager—proposed by him—led all three of the men into the marriage trap? Should he apologize to his friends? he wondered dryly. Or should he be congratulated? he thought, as he looked upon Susanna with a surprising feeling of tenderness.
When Susanna said nothing, Leo studied her, curious about her uneasiness.
Lady Rosa cried, “Can you imagine? And to think, I once thought you and Peter—” She broke off, blushing as she glanced at Leo. “But that is long in the past, of course.”
Ah, there it was. Susanna and Peter? Leo looked at his wife with open consideration, and she made a little frown of annoyance that he found fetching.
“I’ll have to hear that story,” Leo said.
When he was alone with her.
He turned to the professor. “Sir, I know you teach at Cambridge, but I would be interested in learning more. It’s not every man who can say one’s father-in-law is a famous scholar.”
Susanna froze in obvious worry, as if he’d gone too far, but Professor Leland cleared his throat and studied Leo thoughtfully.
“I’m an anatomist, Mr. Wade. I’m surprised Susanna has not explained my work to you.” Then he glanced over his spectacles. “Or perhaps there wasn’t time.”
T
o Susanna’s surprise, her mother led her into the drawing room after dinner, leaving the men to their brandy. Susanna had long since stopped worrying about Leo—he had her mother openly laughing through dinner, and even her father had smiled. Leo understood people well. They were different in that way—Susanna often struggled to hide her incomprehension at the behavior of others, and it was so much harder for her to make easy conversation. And humor? That was Leo’s forte.
She and her mother sat side by side on a sofa.
“You look happy,” Lady Rosa said softly, touching her daughter’s arm. “I feel immensely relieved.”
“And you see the same thing in Rebecca’s face?”
“Of course!”
“I thought Lord Parkhurst far too sober and judgmental for someone as adventurous as my sister. And Rebecca had been determined to remain unmarried as long as possible.”
“You and I did see them together before she left for Aunt Rianette’s. I don’t know when they had time to become better acquainted. And she was only home for several days before I heard the news. I was quite shocked.”
Susanna knew that Julian had followed Rebecca out of London, and she found herself terribly curious to know what had happened. Susanna had vowed to protect her sister and cousin—had she succeeded? Were they truly happy, or trapped because of the consequences of that dreadful painting? The only way to know for certain was to talk to Rebecca and Elizabeth herself.
“But that was nothing compared to my shock this afternoon,” her mother said, shaking her head and giving Susanna a hesitant gaze. “When I saw you with Mr. Wade . . .”
Susanna smiled. “I understand, Mama. He is surely the last man I ever thought I’d be drawn to. But there is something about him . . .”
“Of course, of course. I did not doubt you knew your own mind. You always think everything through.”
Susanna could have choked.
“But Mr. Wade has such an . . . interesting reputation.”
“Some men have wild youths, and his might have lasted a bit longer than most, but it is in the past now.” She hoped. “Do you think Papa will eventually understand?”
Her mother’s smile was rueful. “Give him time. He has not been impressed with Mr. Wade’s reputation. I told him you would make a wise decision, but he seemed to think you could be led astray by the right man.”
“I cannot imagine why he thought that.” Perhaps because he knew her better than anyone.
“I know! I am your mother, after all. But now I can rest easy, knowing that my daughters and my son are happy and taken care of.”
Susanna allowed her mother’s hug and wondered how Leo was doing alone with her father.
S
usanna sat in the middle of her bed later that night, drawing the counterpane up around her waist, staring at the dressing-room door as it opened and Leo came striding in. He wore a robe, and his legs were bare. Susanna stared at him, feeling strange with a husband—a very attractive, dominating man—in her childhood bedroom.
“Your father sent up a valet,” Leo said as he walked toward the bed. “I didn’t know how to tell him I haven’t used one on our whole wild journey. He might think you’ve been providing everything I need.”
She shuddered. “What did you possibly say to my father since we’ve never even discussed if you went to university?”
He eyed her with amusement. “I’m a Cambridge man. I had no choice but to follow my brother.”
Follow his brother . . . of course! He’d said Lord Wade helped him with all his work. Should she tell Leo that she knew the truth, that she understood?
And what if he took it poorly, here, with her parents within earshot? No, his secret would have to wait.
“But you didn’t know my father?”
“Anatomy? No.” He laughed. “I studied the classics, just like my brother. He was convinced I couldn’t get into any trouble that way.”
“But he was wrong.”
“Very wrong.”
Leo put a knee on the bed and began to crawl toward her. She shrank back against the pillows—what could he be thinking?
Here? Now?
“So, sweetheart,” he said softly, when his head was above hers, “what is this about Peter Derby, friend of mine, participant in a wager that has seen him shackled to your cousin? But first he was interested in you?”
She let out her breath shakily and couldn’t quite meet his eyes. “Oh, that. Nothing, truly. Many years ago, when I first came out, he expressed some interest in courting me. We didn’t suit. Believe me, he courted many women, even my brother’s supposed widow.”
She expected Leo to laugh, his usual response. Trying to distract him, she reached up to touch his face—
He caught her wrist even as he studied her. “I need the story.”
He retreated to sit cross-legged on the bed, and she could see his bare thighs. Without thinking, she ducked her head to see more beneath his robe.
“None of that,” he said.
“None of that?” she echoed. “From
you
?”
“Believe me, it’s taking every bit of control I have not to toss you onto your back and have my way with you.” His eyes smoldered as they meandered down her body.
She felt flushed and pleased and suddenly breathless.
“But you’re my wife; you have to tell me your secrets.”
“That goes for you, too.”
“It does.”
“Then I’ll take you up on that, soon,” she promised solemnly. “Be prepared.”
He frowned, studying her. “My question first. Tell me about Peter.”
“That’s not a question.”
“Susanna.”
She gave a heavy sigh and looked away. It should be easy to explain her silly, self-conscious youth. “I don’t usually dwell on it. I’ve changed much since then, become confident in my own worth.”
“I’m glad to hear it. But about Peter . . .”
“I wasn’t so confident then, merely awkward and uncomfortable and inept. I didn’t seem to care about the same things other young people did. Men . . . did not pay much attention to me, and if they did, I could easily tell it was because of my dowry or my family connections. I was not exactly a proper debutante.”
“Ah, no wonder I was suspect.”
“You can hardly blame me for assuming you needed my money. But you’re putting it all in trust,” she said, staring at him in wonder.
He only shrugged. “I’ve told you from the beginning that I didn’t need it. I was pleased you seemed to believe me even before I revealed my plans.”
“You were?” she said softly, taking his hand again.
“But it took you long enough. Now go on about your suitors.”
She sighed. “I couldn’t even blame their lack of true attention on the lure of Rebecca or Elizabeth because neither of them were out of the schoolroom yet. And then there was Peter. We’d practically grown up together, neighbors. We were comfortable, and I began to think that such a feeling would make a good marriage—”
“ ‘Comfortable’?” Leo interrupted in obvious disbelief. “You’ve used that before, and it is the most unromantic word I’ve ever heard.”
“Allow me to finish. I’d begun to hear that Peter was spending time with another young lady as well, and I understood, for there was no commitment between us. At a party with the young, fashionable crowd, I overheard this lady making a joke at my expense. Peter was with them, and I kept waiting for him to defend me, but he didn’t. He only laughed, too.” She briefly closed her eyes, not wanting to see a pitying look. “We were both young and foolish, and I’ve forgiven him since, but that was the end of my brief flirtation with Peter.” Her forgiveness took a bit longer than she was making it sound, for his behavior had been the final straw in her terrible battle with trying to find a place in Society.
“So you retreated to your books and your art and gave up on marriage.”
She said nothing.
“You gave up on marriage for many years.”
She shrugged. “It was Matthew’s return that woke me up. His wife Emily thought I was being far too safe, taking no risks, that someday I might regret it.”
“Life is about risks,” he said, nodding. “You took one with me, and look what happened.”
“Not a good thing, or so I believed at first.”
“Then you regret taking Emily’s advice.”
Those eyes that could be so light with amusement, as green as new summer grass, now seemed opaque, impassive, showing no emotion.
“Only briefly,” she admitted. “But now . . . I don’t know.”
Though his voice had seemed emotionless, Susanna thought she detected something else beneath. Could she have the power to hurt him? It didn’t seem possible. He was so full of vitality and belief in his own worth, even with the secret he kept hidden.
Or did he have doubts about himself, too?
There was only a single candle lit on her bed table, and Susanna leaned to blow it out.
“No,” Leo said. “Leave it. I want to see you. And I don’t mean while you fall asleep.”
She gave him a slow smile, conscious of her need to keep him curious about her. “What if I want the mystery of the dark?”
He met her eyes, and his twinkled devilishly in the flickering candlelight. She caught her breath at the promise there.
“Then let me show you why girls should be afraid of the dark.”
She blew out the candle, and while the acrid smell lingered briefly in the air, she felt the disturbance of the bed as he moved.
She tensed with excited expectation. “What are you—”
“Lie back.” His command was a soft growl in the darkness.
And then the counterpane started to slide down her body. She wore her nightgown, but the moment the air hit her bare feet in a swirl, she shivered.
“Afraid?” he whispered from somewhere away from the bed.
“Come to me, and I won’t be.”
“Not yet. Be quiet. Spread your legs, and then don’t move.”
In the darkness, she could see nothing, and his command made her tense with a new thrill. But still he didn’t touch her. She lay blinking, feeling fluttery and nervous and—
And then she felt a whisper of moistness on the arch of her foot, and realized he’d kissed her there. She shuddered, her every awareness centered on her skin, as she wondered where he would touch her next.
It took too long, and her anticipation grew to the point that she was about to beg him. Then she felt the slow slide of his tongue up the inside of her calf, pushing her nightgown up at the same time. She let out a fluttery moan and did her best to remain still, when her skin seemed to be shrinking on her bones, and she had to move or she would be smothered.
He nipped the inside of her knee, and this time she did jerk. His silent laughter was only a puff of breath against her moist flesh. And still he moved higher, and the linen nightdress sliding upward was an unbearable announcement of his intentions.
Now there were kisses, slow and steady, advancing up her inner thigh, higher and higher, until she realized she was arching her hips off the bed, her body taut with pleasure. It coiled deep inside her, stirring, and she wanted to give it free rein to sweep through her again, to take her to heights only Leo had ever provided.
When his mouth left her, she collapsed back onto the bed with a groan.
And then he started up the other inner thigh, this time spreading her legs wider, until she was so open to him, vulnerable. Wasn’t it time he should be inside her? Shouldn’t he—
And then he nuzzled her entrance, and it wasn’t with his fingers.
“Leo!”
His mouth against her, he chuckled, and that made her spasm under him even more.
“No talking,” he murmured.
“But—but—surely—”
And then he licked her, his tongue delving so slowly that her moan became strangled in her throat. She was hot with embarrassment, greedy for passion, her every sense concentrated on what he was doing to her. His tongue darted lightly, then made long slow strokes, tasting her, tormenting her. She was restless with need, her head rolling back and forth, her limbs quivering, feeling the climb toward unbearable pleasure.
And then she felt his hands cupping her breasts at the same time, and she cried out. His fingers tweaked and rolled her nipples, then he suckled her down below, until the explosion came over her in a shuddering eruption of heat and power and release.
“Oh God,” she gasped, still trembling, even as he slowly climbed up her body. “Leo, Leo, please—”
She bent her knees to capture his hips; and then he was inside her, deeply penetrating, powerfully stroking. His entire body pressed her into the bed, and it felt wonderful and dominating and intense. She came again almost immediately, letting him ride her through it, rocking against him, feeling the perspiration on their bodies mingle.
Everything mingled—as if they were one body now, one being. He shuddered and groaned above her, and she felt the satisfaction of knowing she’d done this to him—that they’d pleasured each other.
He collapsed onto the bed at her side with a final groan. “Next time I promise to take my time. Maybe. I feel like a randy boy.”
“And is that so bad?” she asked, rolling onto her side to cuddle against him. She inhaled, surprised to find how much she enjoyed the scent of him. “I thought it wonderful. I still can’t believe what you did to me. Do you like the same thing in return?”
Another groan in the darkness, this time mingled with a chuckle that shook the bed. “There’s so much I’ll show you, Susanna.”
She took that as a promise. But as she lay there listening to him fall asleep, enjoying the intimacy of the way his body relaxed and his breathing evened, her insecurities began to nibble again on her satisfied mood.
She’d told him about her foolish problems with men, and he hadn’t laughed at her. He was tolerating her eccentricities as he spent every moment of the day with her, but once they were back in London, there might be days when they only saw each other in passing. Would he tolerate her differences then, when it was obvious Society thought her an outcast?
He had to understand how very different she was, and if it was a test he would fail, she had to know the truth.
Suddenly, she felt him flinch and twitch, and she spread her hands down his arm and across his chest. His breathing became erratic and harsh. She wanted to hold him to her, to soothe him. It was another dream, but why the same thing over and over again?
L
eo awoke to a silent bedroom, and realized that although it was just past dawn, he was alone. He relaxed and let weariness overtake him again. He hadn’t slept well, even with Susanna a soothing presence at his side. He could only hope he hadn’t kept her awake. He didn’t think he’d called out in the night, but he could never be certain.
He was beginning to feel helpless, as if his dreams were trying to tell him something, but he couldn’t understand the message. And did he really want to know, if it involved a corpse and suffocating darkness? The darkness kept him from knowing where the corpse was, so he had no way to follow the trail in real life and discover the truth.
He was . . . helpless.
He felt the need to be outside before he faced Susanna and her family, so he went for a long ride on horseback. After far too many days in a carriage, it refreshed and cleared his mind to be out of doors, even though the overcast sky threatened rain. He ate a solitary breakfast, then began to explore the palace but couldn’t find Susanna in any of the public rooms. There must be rooms reserved for the family alone, and though he was family now, he wasn’t certain he’d been given permission to act as one of them.
At last he found Lady Rosa in the morning room, going over the evening’s menu with Mrs. Townsend. Lady Rosa dismissed the servant, then smiled at him.
