One Night of Scandal (19 page)

Deb jumped up in agitation. ‘I have already told you, my lord. It is quite impossible for you to fulfil the role!’

Richard got to his feet. ‘It is not so foolish. Think for a moment, Mrs Stratton! What could be more acceptable to
your family than a betrothal to man who is already an acquaintance of long standing—and a friend to your brother-in-law? It is far more credible than that you produce some stranger for approval, like a magician whipping a rabbit out of a hat. No one would be taken in by that!’

Deb bit her lip. His logic so far was faultless. ‘I cannot believe that my family would approve of you,’ she said slowly. ‘Your reputation precedes you.’

Richard did not seem unduly perturbed. ‘There is not a matchmaking mother on earth,’ he said cynically, ‘who cannot overlook a rake’s reputation if he is rich and titled.’

Deb could not argue with that either, although she tried. ‘I cannot believe that Papa would be so sanguine,’ she said.

‘Oh, he will,’ Richard said, the cynical light still in his eyes. ‘I guarantee it.’

Deb pressed the palms of her hands together. ‘Then there is Liv and Ross. They would never believe that ours was a genuine betrothal. I have told Liv—’ She broke off, biting her lip. She could hardly repeat to him the conversation that she had had with her sister.

‘I told Olivia that I wanted to take you as a lover not a husband’
would start them on an entirely different conversation, and one that would be even more perilous. Which was what made it madness even to consider Lord Richard Kestrel in the role of her fiancé. She was already far too susceptible to his charms as it was.

Richard took her hand. He smiled a little. ‘You have told your sister that you think me a reprobate and want nothing to do with me?’

Deb blushed. ‘Not precisely, but those are the sentiments I should be holding.’

‘Ross would very likely call me out if he knew what we planned.’ Richard’s smile turned rueful. ‘However, I think that it would still probably be worth it.’

Deb did not miss his use of the word ‘we’. Her heart skipped a beat. It seemed that the betrothal plan was suddenly moving rather swiftly.

‘I am persuaded that you are correct,’ she said. ‘Ross may be a friend of yours, but he would never countenance our betrothal, nor the deceit involved in misleading my father.’ She freed herself from his grip, ‘Oh, I wish I had never started this! There must be a dozen reasons why it would never work. You will not do, my lord. I wanted someone deferential. You are too…too forceful and too high-handed…’

She turned away. There was far more to it than that, of course. There was something about Richard Kestrel that made her respond on the most instinctive and feminine of levels, something male and dangerous. To accept him as her fiancé, temporary or not, to agree to spend more time with him, to allow him insidiously to grow closer to her…These were all such foolish ideas that she had to put a stop to them now.

Richard was standing close to her, unnervingly close. ‘I think that we are approaching the crux of the problem,’ he said softly. ‘Your other protestations could be overcome. You are using them as a distraction. What you really object to is me personally. Why is that, Mrs Stratton?’

He was so near to her that Deb felt utterly overwhelmed. She made a slight, nervous gesture. ‘I have already told you the answer to that, my lord. You are the opposite of all the qualities that I require in a fiancé, temporary or otherwise! You are also an untrustworthy rogue.’

Richard caught her wildly waving hands. ‘You object to me because you are attracted to me,’ he said.

Deb gasped. ‘You go too far, my lord.’

‘Frequently. It is true, though, is it not?’

‘I do not feel comfortable with you,’ Deb prevaricated.
‘It would be ridiculous to try to convince anyone that I was betrothed to you when I feel so ill at ease in your company.’

‘We could overcome that,’ Richard said, ‘if you could trust me.’

Deb’s heart jumped. A part of her, a deeply instinctive part, wanted to do just that. It was extraordinary. Her head was telling her that she was making a mistake but her intuition was telling her that she could depend on him.

He leaned closer to her. ‘Deborah—’ she caught her breath at his use of her name ‘—my impression is that you are accustomed to living alone and relying on your own resources, but that, in this one matter, you need some help.’ His gaze trapped and held hers. ‘Why else come up with this unorthodox solution to your difficulties? It might go against the grain with you, but you need a strong man who can protect you, not someone meek or compliant. Whilst I am with you, you will be safe. I swear it.’

Deb stared into his dark eyes. The vision was so seductive. Her father had never offered to protect her, and neither had Neil Stratton in the short time that she had known him. Rather the reverse, in fact, for he had done everything in his power to ruin her. And now Richard Kestrel was offering her his protection. She wanted to accept it, and everything that it entailed. She struggled against the temptation.

‘Ross will help me—’ she began.

Richard shook his head. ‘Ross cannot prevent your father from forcing you to stay in Bath, nor can he prevent him marrying you off if he so chooses. I can.’

Deb closed her eyes. She knew that he was right. If she arrived at Walton Hall with some nonentity of a man or, worse still, alone, there would be no one to stand between her and a betrothal to her cousin.

‘Papa is not cruel,’ she said, thinking of her father and wanting Richard to understand. ‘It is merely that he is not
accustomed to opposition and he wants to see me safely married off. None of the others—Liv, Michael, Guy—has ever done anything to thwart him…’

‘You do not need to explain to me,’ Richard said swiftly. ‘I understand.’ He smiled at her. ‘Is it agreed, then? Are we betrothed?’

Deb looked at him. Betrothed to Lord Richard Kestrel. She was not sure if she was mad or dreaming.

‘We are betrothed,’ she confirmed, adding hastily, ‘temporarily.’

Richard’s smile made her feel warm deep in her bones. ‘Temporarily,’ he said. ‘Of course. May I kiss my fiancée?’

‘No!’ Deb said. She felt a little panicked. ‘Before we go any further, my lord, there are a number of conditions I should like to clarify.’

‘Of course.’ Richard sat down on the bench again and drew her down beside him. He sounded obliging, but Deb had the impression that her difficulties might start right here.

‘There is to be no kissing or intimate behaviour,’ she said, ‘unless—’ She stopped, appalled at the way her thoughts had almost run away with her tongue again.

Richard was looking very interested. ‘Unless?’ he queried softly.

Deb fidgeted. ‘I was going to say…unless we are required to give each other a chaste kiss on the cheek to maintain the fiction.’

‘You were not going to say that,’ Richard said. ‘You were going to say something along the lines of unless you change your mind.’

Deb stared at him, shocked by his perception. Did she wear her emotions on her face, that he was able to read her so easily? Or was it that he was so instinctively attuned to what she was thinking that he knew it almost before she did? Either way it was not a reassuring thought.

‘I have other conditions,’ she said, thinking it safer to ignore his remark. She saw him raise his brows sardonically, as though he were prepared to let it pass—for now.

‘Please continue,’ he said.

‘You must be guided by me.’ Deb looked at him. Even as she spoke she could sense his instinctive resistance. This man would make his own decisions. He might be influenced, but he could never be coerced. She moderated her tone. ‘I hope that you will defer to me on all matters relating to my family, where I have the greater knowledge.’

This time he nodded, to her immense relief. ‘That seems sensible.’

Deb took a careful breath. ‘It is also to be understood that our engagement lasts only for the duration of the visit to Bath. After that, it is over.’

This time Richard laughed. ‘We shall see,’ he said.

Deb shot him a suspicious look. ‘What do you mean?’

‘You might find that by then that you do not wish our engagement to be at an end,’ Richard pointed out.

His arrogance took Deb’s breath away.

‘I do not think that there is any likelihood of that,’ she said stiffly.

Richard shrugged, as though he knew better. Deb’s temper fizzed. Taken all in all, the response to her conditions had not been all that she would have wished.

‘I have some prerequisites of my own,’ Richard said. ‘I will escort you back to Ross now and I shall call on you tomorrow to discuss this further.’ He did not wait for her reply. ‘We are to announce our engagement immediately after that. And we are to spend the next few weeks furthering our acquaintance, so that when we travel to Bath, no one will be in any doubt that we are genuinely in love.’

Deb stared. She had not been expecting this.

‘I cannot accept that,’ she said, her throat tight. ‘There is
no requirement for us to appear to be in love! Marriages are made for plenty of other reasons.’

‘Not this one,’ Richard said.

‘Why not?’

Richard held her gaze. ‘Because it is important that you convince people you are in earnest. Your father might well force you to break the engagement if he senses you are halfhearted about it.’ He took her hand. ‘Trust me. It will not be so bad, Deborah.’

‘What, to pretend to be in love with you?’ Deb felt extremely hot and bothered. She scrambled to her feet to put some distance between them. ‘It is impossible that I should do such a thing!’

An expression crossed Richard’s face, so fleeting she wondered if she had imagined it and when he spoke there was nothing but faint amusement in his voice.

‘Why so?’

‘Because I…’ Deb flailed around as she tried to explain herself. ‘It is dangerous…’

‘In what way?’

Deb could see the trap yawning at her feet. She prevaricated. ‘I am not very good at acting.’

‘Then do not act,’ Richard said. ‘I am sure we may be convincing, nevertheless.’ He got up in a leisurely fashion and, before Deb could move, his arms went about her and his lips came down on hers in an embrace that, despite its brevity, lit a sharp flame all the way through her body.

He let her go a second later. ‘I am sorry,’ he said, amusement in his voice. ‘I could never keep any promise not to touch you, Deborah, though I do swear not to do anything that you do not want.’ He stepped back. ‘The decision must be yours. If you can accept me on my terms…then I am yours to command.’

Deb’s heart was beating rapidly. Although her mind was
telling her that she was about to commit another impulsive act of folly, she knew her decision was already made. She had no real choice.

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I accept your offer and I thank you for helping me, my lord.’

Richard’s transforming smile took her breath away. ‘Then you are welcome, Deborah. Do you think that you might call me Richard, though? You will give the game away if you persist in addressing me as “my lord”.’

Deb nodded. ‘I can try. It feels…unfamiliar.’ It was not the only thing that felt strange. The whole situation felt shaky and perilous. She was conscious of Richard watching her, a slight frown on his brow.

‘Is something else troubling you, Deborah? You seem very tense.’

Deb hesitated. ‘I feel very nervous,’ she said.

‘Of me?’ Richard’s expression was unreadable.

‘Of our situation.’ Deb’s gaze faltered as it met his. ‘I know that I should not say this,’ she said. ‘It is scarce modest in me, but I cannot be coy…’

Her voice wavered at the tenderness she saw come in to Richard’s face. He waited.

‘You were correct before,’ she said, in a rush. ‘I wish to keep my distance from you because I like you. I told you when we met here by the river—’ Her breath caught. ‘I like you, Richard Kestrel, but you are dangerous to me and this masquerade of ours…’ her gaze touched his ‘…this just makes you more dangerous still. I must be monstrous foolish to allow you so close when you have a reputation for being the greatest rake between here and London and when it seems…’ she sighed ‘…it seems that I cannot resist you.’

Once again she saw the flare of emotion in his eyes and felt her heart rate increase by several notches. What might have happened she could not say, but then Richard turned
his head sharply, and over his shoulder she saw that Ross was approaching.

‘A reprieve,’ Richard said as he took her hand. ‘Ross is coming to rescue you.’

Deb shrank. She wondered just how much Ross had seen of their recent encounter. ‘I had no notion our half-hour had expired.’ Her hand clung to his. ‘I do not quite know what to tell him about this.’

Richard kissed her fingers. ‘I shall speak to him tonight. And I shall call upon you tomorrow.’ He smiled at her. ‘Good day, Deborah.’

Feeling strangely shaky, Deb watched him go. He shook hands with Ross, exchanged a few words and then strode away. Deb watched his tall figure out of sight. She knew that she had a tiger by the tail now. From the moment that she had agreed to the betrothal she had lost control of the situation. She had gained a fiancé, but not the type of man that she had wanted in the role. She was obliged to admit that it was quite another service that she wished Richard Kestrel to perform for her, and that brief but passionate kiss had confirmed it. No precepts of modesty of respectability could hide the truth. The principles that had kept her life so barren of love were crumbling. She wanted a rake. She wanted Richard to be her lover and she was not at all sure how long common sense and propriety could govern her actions.

Chapter Eleven

‘Y
ou seem mightily distracted this evening, old fellow,’ Ross Marney said, ushering his friend Richard Kestrel into his study and closing the door firmly behind them. ‘Never seen you lose so badly at whist. Lucky the ladies only play for pennies or you’d be in River Tick by now.’ He gave Richard a searching look. ‘Is there anything that I can help with? Anything that a glass of brandy could improve?’

Richard laughed and accepted the invitation, taking one of the wing chairs set before the fire and waiting whilst his friend poured for both of them. He had attended Olivia Marney’s card party that evening more in the hope of seeing Deb than in anything else, but in the event she had not been there and Richard had found himself bored and inattentive. He had lost badly, to the great pleasure of all the ladies, who had fleeced him mercilessly.