How to Handle a Scandal (18 page)

And he wasn’t going to take her with him, obviously. Her heart trembled as she understood how this was going to be. “Are you saying we ought to agree that our marriage might not include fidelity?”

Something came over his face—she would have said it was regret, but she knew it couldn’t be.

“If I sometimes entertained the idea of one day marrying wisely, I certainly never thought I would ever consider a marriage without fidelity,” he said. “But now…isn’t it for the best if we decide to go our own ways when I leave for India?”

She looked away. “So we would simply be two people who happen to be married.”

“Yes,” he agreed with what sounded like relief. “While we’re together, until I leave for India, we’ll be friends, just as we agreed. We behave as the newly married Lord and Lady Halifax ought to do, so that our family and friends and the servants all believe we are content. And that means fidelity while we are together. Once we are apart, though, I think we should go on as we like—discreetly of course.”

She forced herself to reply. She owed this to him, as she saw it. “Very well.”

“Then we are agreed to be reasonable,” he said.

“Agreed,” she said, struggling to force down the note of huskiness threatening her voice.

So there was truly no hope for their marriage being anything other than a friendly partnership. She knew she shouldn’t have been entertaining any hopes, but…she really liked him. The friendship she felt for him made her want to spend more time with him, but it was more than that. He made her heart skip.

But clearly
she
wasn’t making
his
heart skip.

A knock sounded at the door and Mrs. Hatch entered, looking fussed. “I’m sorry to disturb your evening, my lord and lady, but there was a small explosion in one of the privies.”

Tommy absorbed this bizarre information, then said, “Why doesn’t this surprise me?”

He tossed Eliza a rueful smile (she didn’t know if it was for her benefit or Mrs. Hatch’s) as he was going. Before he left, though, she reminded him of his promise to tour the manor with her the following day. She would probably regret spending even more time in his company, but she did need his thoughts on the work. And if she wanted to indulge herself foolishly by spending more time with him, that was nobody’s business but hers.

* * *

Later that night, Tommy walked toward his bedchamber, having determined that an old stash of gunpowder had apparently been discarded into the privies not long ago and been ignited by a smoking pipe that someone accidentally dropped on top of it, thus necessitating the bizarre rule he’d just established that there was to be no smoking in the privies.

The incident was only the latest inconvenience offered by Hellfire Hall, but he knew he ought to be grateful for it, because when Mrs. Hatch had knocked, he’d been struggling mightily against the urge to pull Eliza into his arms and kiss her.

He wondered how she would have responded if he had. He didn’t think he’d been imagining the light of attraction in her eyes, and he could hardly be the only one who remembered just how good their one fateful encounter had been.

He entered his bedchamber and began pulling off his boots. He could no longer find anything left of the spoiled, indulgent, superficial woman he’d believed Eliza to be. She was kind and resilient and funny, and so much more.

He
liked
her.

Not only that, obviously; he wanted her quite badly.

From the other side of his bedchamber wall came a few muffled sounds, the murmuring of two women. He supposed the maid had arrived to help Eliza prepare for bed. The thought was hotly erotic.

She was his wife and he wanted her. He was married to her for eternity, but she was not in his bed. Hell, they hadn’t even consummated their marriage, if one didn’t count that pre-wedding encounter. They were newlyweds who’d had no newlywed bliss.

He briefly wondered what she would think of French letters and discarded the idea with a curse as the thought of seeing the body hidden by all those teasing pink gowns worked a predictable effect on him. She was bewitching, but he knew she wasn’t trying to entice him; she was just being herself. Now that he wasn’t angry with her, though, it was impossible not to be extremely attracted to her. And to want the natural conclusion to that attraction.

But seducing Eliza would be a rotten thing to do, because it would draw them closer when he would be leaving her behind. They’d both agreed they would behave as friends, then go back to their former lives. And he didn’t want the encumbrance of a family. Making love to her, however much he wanted to, was a terrible idea.

He got into bed and pulled the covers over his head and groaned when an image of her bosom in the gown she’d worn to dinner popped into his head. By the end of another week living with her and not touching her, he was going to be nothing but a pile of smoking ash.

“Do the walls really have to be pink?” Tommy asked when he and Eliza stopped by the drawing room late the next morning as part of what she was calling “The Tour of What’s Wrong with Hellfire Hall.”

“The color is called salmon,” she said.

“Salmon seems to be a theme of late.”

She smiled. “I think it makes the space feel warm and inviting.”

Pink, he knew, was her favorite color and always had been, which was doubtless why Anna had sent so much of it. He wondered if Anna had been tired of the dull clothes Eliza had been wearing. He supposed they had been part of her effort to be virtuous and austere.

She certainly seemed to have cast off austerity since coming to Hellfire Hall. She was wearing a fuchsia gown that had shiny overlays of some pearly fabric and fit her bosom in a snug way he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes from. Her hair was piled in a loose style that made him think of rumpled sheets and would have been completely out of place in a London drawing room. She’d tied a fuchsia velvet ribbon around her neck with a black pearl dangling from it. He had to struggle to avoid looking at her as they moved around the house, because he kept thinking about doing completely inappropriate things, like backing her up against the wall and kissing her. And much more.

He wasn’t supposed to be having thoughts that combined sex and Eliza, but how was he supposed to live with her when he kept remembering the warm, lush curves he’d traced that night they’d touched—curves he wanted to actually see, damn it all, and touch a lot more?

“We should go out to the garden next,” he said, thinking it would be better not to be in such close quarters with her, because he kept catching little whiffs of her rose scent, and it was only making things worse.

“You want to visit the garden
now
? It’s freezing this morning, and drizzling, too,” she said as they moved on from the dining room. She’d proposed that after the dining room was plastered, they paint the walls blue with gold trim, and he’d agreed, just as he’d agreed to everything she’d suggested so far. All her ideas sounded smart and artful, and he knew he couldn’t have found someone else to do a better job of making the house pleasant.

Once or twice when she’d looked at him that morning, he’d had the sense that she was thinking about him in the more-than-friends way he was thinking about her. But he told himself it was only wishful thinking, because nothing she’d said or done suggested that she wanted to do wicked things with him.

She frowned. “On second thought, maybe we
should
go out to the garden and check it thoroughly. Traveler is fond of the garden, and there might be man traps or snakes or something like that.”

“I doubt the brigands put any traps out,” Tommy said. “Just their presence here was probably enough to discourage anyone from trespassing. And snakes are nothing new to Traveler. He would probably find himself right at home.”

She laughed, and he tried not to notice how it made her eyes sparkle. “The rest of the things I bought from the auction house should be arriving today,” she said as they stopped by the breakfast room. “Some green cloth for the walls in here, and a patterned carpet in red and gold.”

She tapped her chin with her fingertip, drawing his eyes to her lips until he forced himself to look at the walls that he was supposed to be thinking about. “Or will that look too Christmassy, do you think?”

“Christmas is nice,” he said. Nice… He wasn’t feeling
nice
just then, and if they spent much more time walking around like this, she was going to notice that he was aroused.

“Hmm,” she said, that fingertip tapping under her rosy lips again.

“Well,” he said a little hoarsely, “I think we’ve seen just about everything, and I have to say, you’ve made a miraculous start. Really, the hall was nearly a shambles—if a clean one—when we arrived, and now it’s not.”

“Thank you,” she said, so reasonably. So unaware of all the wicked thoughts he was having.

Or was she?

Stop wondering what she’s thinking! Just stop thinking about her!
he told himself sternly.

He was just about to go out to the garden on his own—surely yanking out bushes in the rain was the very thing he needed to take his mind off her—when a footman appeared with a note from Will that had just arrived. Tommy unsealed it while Eliza waited.

“Oh, for the love of…” he muttered as he read the first lines.

“Is there some problem?” she asked.

He looked up. “My brother informs me that we are about to host a family house party.
Here
. He means to arrive tomorrow with Anna and the children. He also invited my cousins, your friend Meg, and Rex.”

Eliza gasped. “
What?
Guests? Here?” She sounded nearly incoherent. “
Tomorrow?
”

He couldn’t help laughing at her horrified expression. “Will writes that the two of us have ‘surely had enough of a honeymoon by now,’ and that it’s time to share our wedded bliss with the family.”

Eliza just stood there with a dazed expression. “So many guests…here. This place still has all the welcome of a hastily pitched tent.”

“I know,” he said, wanting to strangle his brother. He suspected Will wanted to see for himself how things were going with his and Eliza’s marriage. “They’ll just have to take what they get. It’s not as if they didn’t know I bought a place whose last inhabitants were pirates.”

Her brow wrinkled. “But what if any of them suspects something? I’d hate for them to know that our marriage isn’t what they think it is.”

“I’m sure it will be fine. They’re family, after all.”

She sighed. “Well, it will be good to meet Rex anyway.”

“Mmm,” he said vaguely. ‘Good’ and ‘Rex’ were not words he would have put together. But he didn’t see the point in mentioning anything just yet. Besides, he was fairly certain that he saw the light of enthusiasm in her eyes, and they were going to need all the enthusiasm they could muster until the elusive Aunt Diana could be found.

“I’ve had lots of experience with girls of thirteen,” Eliza said, “but I hardly know anything of boys that age. I suppose having him with us will be an adventure.”

“That’s one way of looking at it,” Tommy said dryly. “Though maybe we’ll get news of his aunt soon.”

“Until then, Rex will be one more person we have to fool with our marital charade,” she pointed out gloomily.

“Cheer up,” he said. “It’s not as if we hate each other.”

“It wasn’t so long ago that we did.”

“But we’re friends now.”

“Yes,” she said, though she sounded as though she wasn’t entirely certain what that meant. He wasn’t either, but now that hordes of people were descending on them, at least he would be too busy to spend time fantasizing about what was under Eliza’s clothes.

“So we’re already in a better place than most couples,” he said. “All we need to do is smile a bit and look dreamy, and they’ll take it for contentment.”

“I suppose,” she said with an exasperated little smile, and something turned over in his chest, a forgotten sensation that moved with the sort of rusty groan that accompanied old dungeon doors.

Damn
. Lust was doing strange things to him.
Was
she struggling with it too?

“Eliza,” he said.

“Yes?”

He itched to kiss the elegant column of her neck and nibble downward toward the tiny ruffle at the bodice of her gown. And did her lips have to be such a pretty rose color?

“Never mind.” His passage to India was already booked, and there were a number of delicate diplomatic missions he was to undertake on his return. He would be going back to a life he enjoyed, a life unencumbered by the responsibility he would feel if he and Eliza became too deeply involved.

But what if he came back to stay in England sooner than he’d originally planned? What if he gave himself, say, five more years, and then came home and tried to make a life with her? It could be a new plan.

But it sounded like a tremendously
stupid
plan. He loved his work in India. Why would he change his life on the slim chance that being with Eliza would offer something he couldn’t even quite name?

Mrs. Hatch came around the corner of the corridor a moment later, and Eliza informed her that they were about to host a house party.

Tommy hid a smile at the poor woman’s horrified gasp.

* * *

With so little time to prepare for their guests, Eliza began organizing the household right away. Since there would at least be a mostly dry roof over everyone’s head, she felt the next item of absolute importance was food, and she conferred with Mrs. Hatch and Cook as to the menus, then dispatched servants to purchase grand quantities of food and drink.

That settled, she decided they would focus their efforts on comfort, because more than anything besides a good meal, a tired guest wanted a welcoming space to relax. She sent a servant into town with instructions to buy mountains of the prettiest bed coverings that could be found, which would replace the plain, rather ugly linens currently adorning the guest bedchambers.

She sent Tommy into the town as well—to the auction house with instructions to buy some art.

“Art?” He laughed. “Do you really think a painting or two is going to help?”

“Yes. Get as many paintings as you can, and see if you can find some sculptures as well.”

“Shouldn’t you be the one making these decisions? I don’t know much about art. Perhaps you ought to come with me.”

The idea of buying art with Tommy sounded like more fun than she ought to allow herself, but there wasn’t time anyway. “I can’t. I’ve got too much to do here. Just get whatever takes your fancy. Anything will be better than empty rooms and miles of plain walls.”

Tommy left, and Eliza and Mrs. Hatch turned their attention to the dishes and cutlery. There was enough of everything to accommodate their guests, except for a notable lack of spoons. They sent a maid to the attic to look through the chests stored there, and she returned with a large collection of them.

“Good heavens,” Eliza said, turning over a silver soupspoon, “this handle is encrusted with little rubies.”

“Are there any more?” Mrs. Hatch asked, looking through her own pile. “Oh! This one has emeralds.”

“And I’ve one here with little pearls.” Eliza looked up. “Such a ridiculous idea, putting pearls on something that has to be washed frequently.”

“Maybe it was never meant to be used.”

“I wonder if these were souvenirs Flaming Beard kept, or if he actually bought them.” Eliza chuckled. “I like the idea that they belonged to some Spanish queen.”

After the dining arrangements were sorted out, Eliza sent one of the footmen to cut back the ivy growing across the bottoms of the dining room windows. She herself went to the library and finished shelving the books she’d ordered.

Tommy returned in the late afternoon, followed by several laden carts. As two servants unloaded them in the front drive, Eliza stood with him, inspecting his acquisitions and indicating where each piece should go.

“How many landscape paintings did you buy?” she asked as the sixth one came off the cart.

“That’s a seascape,” he said. “It’s different from the one with all the hills. And you did say to get a lot of paintings.”

“So I did.”

The next three were of dogs. She raised an eyebrow at the last one, which showed a greyhound painted with all the care that might have been lavished on a king.

“I like dogs,” Tommy said in an offended tone. “Besides, Traveler will appreciate it.”

He’d also bought five busts of famous men and one large marble sculpture of a nude couple entwined.

“What were you thinking?” she asked as she watched a group of footmen carry the sculpture toward the door. The stone pair seemed almost alive, their passion for each other coming across so well that just looking at them made Eliza blush.

Tommy called out to the footmen, “Put it in the foyer.”

“In the
foye
r
?” she said. “It’s really not appropriate.”

He was standing next to her, and though the day was chilly, she could feel some of the warmth of his body. Or maybe that was just her own heat, a reaction to his nearness and to memories of what it felt like to be in his arms. He looked down at her with his clear green eyes.

“I bought it because they looked happy, which will make our guests cheerful.”

“Happy?” she squawked as the servants disappeared inside, leaving her and Tommy alone. “That’s not how I would describe it.”

He smirked and she swatted his chest. They hadn’t touched each other once since that brief, dry kiss on their marriage day, and she hadn’t meant to touch him now. It had only been an old reflex of flirtation. Or at least, that was what she told herself as he captured her eyes with a gaze that seemed suddenly hot. Her hand lingered against the solid, warm wall of his chest. It was as though just by touching him, she’d changed something between them.

His hand covered hers, warm and strong. He stepped closer. “How
would
you describe our sculpted couple?”

She couldn’t think with him so close and holding her hand as though he wanted her to be there. He couldn’t know just how much she wanted him to pull her into his arms. “Naked,” she mumbled.

He chuckled, a husky sound that curled into her. “Observant of you. Are you suggesting that people can’t be naked
and
happy?”

“‘Happy’ just seems like the wrong description,” she managed to say, though it felt nearly impossible to speak sensibly just then. He smelled so good, familiar and exotic at the same time, and she could feel his heart beating. She wanted to let her hand roam onto the bare skin of his neck.

“Contented then?” he offered. His lids lowered and he looked at her from beneath thick black lashes. The wild slash of white in his too-long black hair and the shadow of the day’s whiskers gave him the air of a pirate who knew charm might gain him far more booty than force. “Delighted?”

He wanted to suggest they were talking about more than just the statues. She shook her head. She felt that desire lay between them like an unopened letter.