Scandal of the Season (14 page)

The glow of the fire reflected gold tones on her face and neck. She looked like a sleeping angel not a woman who gave herself to anyone for a few pounds. Just being in the same bed with her sent blood to his thickening cock. Knowing he could never have her was driving him mad.

He only needed a few more days then this hellish desire would be finished. He could return to London and sate himself with as many women as it took to forget her face. Staring at her lush lips, he wondered if he could survive even one more day without having her. He could have any woman he wanted. Why did he have to want her?

He reached out and let his finger softly draw across her jaw. She sighed. He wondered what she would do if he attempted to kiss her while she slept. Withdrawing his hand, he knew she would not be pleased.

As the night progressed, he continued to watch her sleep and agonize over his reaction to her. No matter how many times he told himself this obsession over her had to stop, it only seemed to increase. When he discovered she had gone to Nicholas tonight, he could barely contain his jealousy. And he had never been a jealous man with any other woman.

There was just something about her.

Victoria spent the next morning outside with Hannah cutting holly and evergreens for decorating the house. As she cut another sprig of holly, Victoria wondered why Hannah didn’t have the servants do this chore.

Hannah walked to her with a smile. “Smell this,” she said, holding out a fresh cut branch of pine.

Victoria inhaled the fresh pine scent and sighed. “It smells wonderful. But don’t you think it’s bad luck to bring them into the house before Christmas Eve?”

“Utter nonsense, Anne. There is no such thing as bad luck”

Victoria didn’t agree. She had seen enough bad luck while living in Whitechapel that she didn’t believe in taking chances.

“Come along,” Hannah said happily. “I believe we have enough. If we need more I’ll send the servants out to cut it. Right now, I need a cup of warm tea.”

Victoria nodded and walked with Hannah toward the house. She’d hoped to spend the morning watching Hardy, but Hannah had insisted that Victoria should help her with the evergreens. Finally inside the house, she left her cloak with a footman and walked toward the library in search of Somerton.

But as she turned the corner of the hall to walk to the dining room, she spied Mr. Hardy walking out of the library, slipping a paper into his waistcoat pocket.

That had to be what Somerton was looking for. He’d told Ancroft it was a missive. If she told Somerton, he would most likely be angry with her for eavesdropping. However, if she handed him the note herself, they could be done with this insane mission he was on. She could return home to her children and life might become normal again.

As Mr. Hardy walked toward her, she smiled at him. “Good afternoon, Mr. Hardy.”

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Smith.”

And if her luck held, she would be seated on his left again, exactly the side on which he placed that note.

“Are you on the way to the luncheon?” Mr. Hardy asked her as he stepped closer.

She had to encourage him on the off chance she wasn’t near him during the meal. She smiled at him. “Yes, I am.”

He held out his right arm for her. “May I escort you?”

“Yes, I would like that.” She prayed Somerton was not in the dining room yet. He would be furious to see her walking in the room with Hardy.

She focused on the lovely landscape paintings that lined the walls as they walked to the dining room. If she thought about how her skin felt like it was crawling with bugs, she might just run. As they strolled into the room, she cringed at the sight of Somerton speaking with Ancroft.

Somerton looked over at her with the coldest gaze she had ever seen. He started to step forward until Ancroft placed a hand on his arm.

Hardy seemed to ignore the sudden tension and said, “Here you are, Mrs. Smith. Unfortunately, we will not be near each other.”

“Perhaps after the luncheon we could talk?”

Hardy’s eyes lit up. “Where would you like to meet?”

“Farleigh’s study.”

“I will meet you in there,” he replied and then walked to his seat across the table.

Now she just had to get through this meal sitting between Somerton and Lord Bingham. Since the old earl appeared to sleep through half his meals, she doubted he would rescue her with conversation.

Somerton strolled over looking casual to all observers, except Victoria. She noticed how tight he clenched his jaw and the slight tic in his cheek. He pulled out the chair for her. His hot breath burned her shoulder.

“We will talk about this after the luncheon,” he whispered in her ear.

“I have plans.” She sat in the chair and smiled at the couple sitting across from her.

“You will meet me in our room.”

“Of course.” But not until after she had met with Hardy. If all went well, she could hand Somerton the note and pack her bags.

Somerton sat beside her. After being near Hardy, Somerton’s presence felt oddly comforting. It made no sense. Somerton was a far more dangerous man than Hardy.

Sitting between Somerton and Lord Bingham, the meal seemed excruciating. Somerton barely spoke to her. Bingham’s head nodded a few times as if he were sleeping. The couple across from them appeared so devoted to each other that they scarcely conversed with anyone, save themselves.

As the luncheon finished, she rose and started for the door only to have Somerton clasp his hand around her elbow. “I believe we have a meeting.”

She yanked her elbow out of his grip. “I must speak with Lady Farleigh first. She asked for my assistance with the decorations for the ball.”

“You have one hour,” he replied in a harsh tone. “If you do not return to our bedchamber by then, I will find you.”

“I understand.” Although, she didn’t feel terribly relieved. Too much could happen in an hour alone with Hardy. She had to find a way to get that missive quickly.

She walked away from Somerton toward Lord Farleigh’s study. She entered the room to find Mr. Hardy sitting in a wingback chair with a glass of brandy in his hand.

“Good afternoon again, Mrs. Smith.” He held up his glass of brandy. “Would you care to join me?”

“No spirits for me.” She strolled to the chair across from him with a smile.

“So,” he drawled. “What exactly did you wish to speak with me about?”

She adjusted the line of her silk skirts. “Lord Somerton and I have not been getting along as of late. I was curious about your reason to know about the ending of our relationship.”

“I believe you know.” He sipped his brandy. “Are you certain you would not like some?”

“I prefer a clear head when making decisions such as these.”

He smiled at her in a leering manner. “I am glad to see how seriously you take such negotiations.”

“I must. After all, this is my life and income we are discussing. A head muddled with spirits would let you take advantage of me.” She smiled back at him. “And I will never allow that to happen.”

He nodded. “I do like an intelligent woman.”

“So tell me, Mr. Hardy, what can I expect from you?”

“I shall be anything you would like. A gentle lover, a demanding lover—”

“I meant,” she interrupted, “Exactly what type of benefits would I enjoy. After all, I am giving up a very generous man.”

Hardy tilted his head slightly and stared at her with probing brown eyes. “Yes, you are. Tell me, Mrs. Smith, exactly why are you looking to leave a man like Somerton for someone like me? After all, he will be an earl someday, while I am a lowly second son.”

Victoria laughed in a light tone. “Lord Somerton is…shall we say, not an easy man. He demands perfection in everything and expects me to comply with his every whim. I prefer a little more give and take in such a relationship.”

He smiled slowly “I agree. If I wanted a woman who only did what I told her, then I would marry.”

Victoria tried not to show her disgust. She glanced at him once more attempting to find something redeeming about the man. She found nothing. As her gaze fell to his striped waistcoat, she noticed the slip of paper sticking out of one pocket. Now it was just a matter of getting the note. Then her job would be done and she could return home.

Hardy cleared his throat as if he noticed her woolgathering. “I will furnish you with a house in Mayfair and as many servants as you need. Your clothing will be paid for along with any other thing you require. In addition, I will send a monthly allowance to you. Does that satisfy your needs?”

“Mr. Hardy, you are more than generous,” Victoria said softly. “However, I must not enter into a new relationship until I break things off with Lord Somerton. I should hate to do that in a public place like this party. Upon my return to London, I shall inform Lord Somerton of my desire to end our relationship. Therefore, until we return to London, I believe we should be circumspect in our behavior. I would feel dreadful if something happened to you because Somerton discovered our newfound friendship.”

She stood to leave, but knew she had to get closer to him first.

“I agree, Mrs. Smith.” Hardy stood to take her elbow to escort her out the door.

Victoria stopped and turned toward him. His eyes darkened with unmasked desire. “Perhaps we should seal our upcoming arrangement with a kiss?”

His smile turned to a leer. “I could not agree more.”

Before she could take a step closer to him, he yanked her to him and pressed his wet lips to hers. Tampering down the nausea in her stomach, she wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his kiss. The disgusting sensation of his vile kiss was nothing like the sensual feel of Somerton’s lips on hers. Not wanting this kiss to last any longer than necessary, she slowly brought her arms down, slid the paper out of his waistcoat and into her pocket before pushing him away with her hand.

“You are a very eager man, Mr. Hardy.” She plastered a smile on her face and turned to the door.

“When will I see you again in private?”

“Hopefully soon.”
Hopefully never!

As she reached for the door, she realized he was directly behind her. He pulled her up against his chest and kissed the nape of her neck. “Very soon,” he murmured.

“I must leave now, darling.”

“Of course.” He backed away and let her open the door.

Once out in the hallway, she stopped and breathed in deeply. Eager to find Somerton and show him the paper, she raced to their bedroom. She opened the door to find him pacing the room with a look of dark fury on his face. She stepped inside, and he halted his stride.

He turned to her, his eyes a dark shade of green. “You let the man kiss you?”

That was why he was furious? And how did he discover that fact? “You were listening in on my private conversation?”

“Yes. When I saw you going into Farleigh’s study and Hannah walking up the stairs, I knew you were not meeting with her to discuss ballroom decorations.”

“So you followed me and eavesdropped?”

He stepped menacingly closer to her. “It is what I do. Now why did you kiss him?”

His anger had caused her irritation to grow. “Why does that concern you? Are you the only man allowed to kiss me now?”

“Yes,” he said as he dragged her to him and lowered his lips to hers.

His lips felt hard and punishing against hers. And somewhat wonderful. As his tongue slashed across hers, she responded to his demands. A jealous man had never kissed Victoria, but if she had to guess what it felt like, this would be it. Although she was certain, Somerton would never let such an emotion control him.

Anthony poured every bit of frustration and jealousy into his kiss. Never in twenty-eight years had he felt anything like the reaction he had when he realized she had allowed Hardy to kiss her. He’d listened to their conversation from the secretary’s office, clearly overhearing every word. But the moment he comprehended the silence in the room, his world had spun around him.

He pulled away from her and then turned toward the windows. His heart pounded in his chest. How could she have kissed Hardy?

“Would you mind telling me exactly what that was about?” she ordered.

“No.”

“Would you like to know why I kissed him?”

Anthony clenched his fists as his frustration with her grew. “I believe it was obvious that you were making the proper arrangements for when we are finished.”

She had the audacity to laugh. “You can’t possibly believe I would have anything to do with that disgusting man, do you?”

“You sounded damned convincing to me.”

“Thank you,” she replied.

He turned to face her again. “What?”

“If I hadn’t been able to convince Hardy, I never would have picked this out of his waistcoat,” she said as she pulled the paper from her pocket.

“You pinched a note from him?” he almost shouted at her. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so much anger coursing through him.

“You were having trouble getting close to him. I saw him place a note in his pocket, and knew I could get it from him. Now we can get back to London.”

“Give me that,” he said, snatching it out of her hand. He didn’t want to think about just how foolish he must look to her. He’d never let jealousy get the upper hand with him. Until now.

As he read the letter, his jealousy turned to rage. “How could you have done this without letting me know beforehand?”

“I overheard you talking with Lord Ancroft and learned you were looking for a note on Hardy.” She sat in the chair looking far too pleased with herself. “So I picked it from him.”

“You stupid little fool,” he said in a low tone. “You might have just cost me this entire mission.”

Her eyes opened wide with fear. “What do you mean?”

He tossed the note on her lap. “It is a letter to his mother. Nothing more. Now he will suspect you took it from him. Now he will believe we are working together on this.”

She bit her lower lip and scanned the letter. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

“You ruined everything, Victoria. You with your impatience to get away from me. Are you desperate for my money so you can leave your current lover? Will Hardy be the next one in your bed?”

“What?” She strode to the door, but he was not done with her yet. He turned her around and forced her against the door.

“How could you let him kiss you?” he demanded again before bringing his lips down on hers. He wanted to punish her. He wanted her to know that he was the only man who should kiss her.

As her velvety tongue touched his, desire and need clawed at him. He wanted to be the one she offered herself to, not Hardy or any other man. Bringing his hands around to her back, he ripped the back of her dress. He kissed her harder until she whimpered.

He wanted to feel her breasts against his chest. Feel her soft body riding him. As he attempted to pull her dress down, she pushed him so hard he stepped back.

“Is this the only way you can make love with a woman?” she cried. “Forcing her up against a door or the wall of a church?”

Her words were like a bucket of cold water dousing him and his desire. What the bloody hell was wrong with him? She ran to the bedroom and fell to the bed. He strode from the room unable to face what he had almost done.

Again.