Scandal of the Season (17 page)

He lowered himself down on her and then rolled them both over. Her head rested on his shoulder as he stared at the ceiling. For ten years, he’d taken his satisfaction from all types of women, and yet, none had left him this fulfilled. And it scared the hell out of him.

His mother’s words about marrying a reputable woman came back to him. Victoria was anything but reputable. She was a pickpocket, had worked as an orange seller and cleaned rooms in a brothel. She was not the marrying type.

Victoria was the mistress type.

Listening to her rhythmic breathing, he knew she had fallen asleep on him. He’d never had a real mistress before, only women here and there. With his job, he hadn’t wanted the complication of a woman who expected him to visit several times a week. But now that he was soon to be finished, he could take Victoria as his mistress.

He could buy her a house of her own. Set her up with a large allowance for expensive dresses and servants, and anything else her heart desired. She would make the perfect mistress. She was intelligent and a little smart in the mouth, but he liked that about her. He liked the fact that she didn’t agree with everything he said.

She blinked her blues eyes open as he stared down at her. A shy smile formed on her lips. Unable to stop himself, he pulled her a little closer and kissed her forehead. She pulled back and frowned at him.

“Why are you frowning at me like that?”

“I’m just wondering why you called me a liar during the middle of…”

He smiled as her cheeks grew red with embarrassment. “Of making love?”

“Yes.”

“Because I quickly realized that you have not been with many men if any other than me.”

She pushed herself up to the pillow and put her head on her hand. “I don’t remember telling you that I had been with many men. That was your assumption.”

He lay back against the bed and stared at the ceiling. “Will you ever be completely honest with me?”

“Will you with me?” she asked softly.

“What are you talking about? I have been honest with you.” He turned back on his side to face her again. “I even told you about what happened in France. I’ve never told a soul about that!”

“You haven’t told me who hurt you so badly that you don’t trust people, especially women.” She reached out and rubbed the back of her hand down his cheek.

“My job demands that I trust no one.”

She closed her eyes. “I understand you have things you can’t tell me just as I have things I can’t tell you.” She opened her eyes and looked at him. “Hardy told me that you and Lady Farleigh were intimate. Is that true?”

How much of this story could he divulge to her? He doubted Hannah would mind. “It was only a few times. I haven’t been celibate for the past ten years.”

“Are you trying to get her back into your bed?”

Anthony laughed. “The only woman I have wanted in my bed for the past week and a half is you. I actually introduced Hannah to Farleigh.”

“Then why would Hardy say such a thing?”

“He must know some of the truth,” Anthony said. “Before Hannah became Farleigh’s mistress, she worked in a brothel.”

She pulled back and stared at him. Her blue eyes questioning him. “A brothel?”

“Yes. I paid for her services two or three times.” He placed a finger over her mouth. “The last night we were together we ended up talking all night. I convinced her that she could do far better for herself than working as a prostitute.”

“How is a mistress better than a prostitute?” she exclaimed.

“You worked in a brothel. Surely, you have an idea of what those women go through every night. They are forced to have sex with whoever picks them. The man might be pleasant or might be abusive. They don’t have a choice. At least as a mistress, they can get to know the man before making the decision to be with him. Then they only have to be with him.”

Victoria knew he was right. When she worked at Lady Whitely’s she had seen a few women with bruises. She did give Lady Whitely credit, once a man had bruised one of her ladies, the man was denied entrance into her home. Unless the lady didn’t mind the rougher sex.

“I suppose you are right,” she finally said. “I’m sorry I even mentioned it.”

He turned toward her with a little smile. “I’m not. If you have a question about me, ask it. I will do my best to answer your question truthfully. But you have to understand that because of the work I do there will be some questions I cannot answer.”

“I do understand that.” Still, she wondered how many secrets he kept inside. And would he ever tell her about who had hurt him so badly?

For a long moment, he just stared at her. “What are you thinking about?”

Not wanting to bring up the topic of his past, she said, “How wonderful the Christmas season is.”

Anthony looked away and muttered, “I hate this time of year.”

Sitting up, she looked down at him as she held the coverlet over her breasts. “How could you hate this season? It’s always been my favorite time of year.”

“Nothing good ever happens in December.”

“You were born in December.”

“My mother left us in December. I found out she was still alive in December. And until tonight, I’d thought I raped a woman in December.” He looked up at her and scowled. “What is so good about this damned time of year?”

A slow smile lit her face. “People are more generous and they carry more money with them. They are willing to buy more oranges and don’t mind so much if a pickpocket takes a little for some coal. I have always loved Christmas. There is just something magical about it.”

“Perhaps you can change my mind,” he whispered and then kissed her softly as if making certain she wouldn’t reject him. Not that she could. His lips and tongue triggered a warm liquid throughout her body that always made her knees weak. Slowly, he pulled away and stared at her blue eyes dark with passion.

“Perhaps we should continue our conversation later.”

Victoria slowly opened her eyes and adjusted to the dim light coming in from the windows. A strong arm held her tight against an equally strong chest. She closed her eyes again and relished the sensation of safety and comfort. How could she feel so comfortable with him?

She had only known him for just over a week. Yet, here she lay, naked in bed with him. She wondered what would have happened if he’d found her ten years ago after that night. She wasn’t foolish enough to think he would have bent down on one knee and professed his undying love to her. Most likely, he would have apologized, given her some money and sent her on her way.

Just as he would in four more days.

She sighed. The only difference now was he associated with her group of friends. She would see him every few months at occasions. As a viscount and future earl, he would have to marry before long. Then she would see him doting on his wife and possibly even his children.

Her heart suddenly ached.

She might have to give up her friends to save her heart from destruction. Turning slowly in his arms, she stared at his face. In sleep, he appeared content, not tense. His strong cheekbones and jaw line was covered in a light beard. She brought her hand to his cheek and gently caressed his face, enjoying the scratchy feeling of his morning growth.

Hazel eyes stared down at her and a smile formed on his perfect lips. “Good morning,” he said with a hoarse voice.

“Good morning,” she whispered in return. She would miss waking up in his arms.

“We could have our breakfast up here.” He kissed her softly. “Have breakfast in bed and maybe then a long hot bath…together.”

“That sounds heavenly.”

“I hear an objection in there,” he commented and then kissed her again.

His suggestive kiss had sent a tingle down her back. “I have given Hardy the impression that you and I are not on the best of terms.”

“So I noticed. Now why would you do that?” He nipped her shoulder with his teeth.

“Should you decide you need my help, this would let me get close to Hardy.”

He lay back against his pillows and stared at the ceiling. “Victoria, I cannot risk it. Hardy might be extremely dangerous.”

She turned on her side to look at him. “But it doesn’t hurt to keep the farce going. You might not need my help. But you might. If you do, then I can step in and pinch the note from him.”

“You know I won’t let you get involved.”

“Why?”

“What I do is dangerous work. I cannot put your life in jeopardy.” He turned back toward her and stared into her soul.

Growing up on the streets of London, Victoria had had her share of risk. His gallant thought of her safety made her heart melt. She didn’t want to be in harms way, but she did want to help him.

“Just think about it, Anthony.”

“I will,” he promised.

“So, do we continue what I started with Hardy?” she asked quietly.

He breathed out a long sigh. “Yes.”

“Good. Now, if Hardy discovers we both had breakfast in our room, he might become even more suspicious than he already is. I think we had best have breakfast downstairs and appear annoyed with each other.”

He kissed her jaw and moved up to her ear. “I hate it when you’re right.”

“Perhaps we could sneak away after luncheon.” She felt him smile against her cheek.

“That sounds slightly wicked, sweetheart.”

“True. I am certain you must have never done anything wicked before.”

He laughed. “Never. And the idea of suggesting we have sexual congress in the middle of the afternoon is horrifying. That should only be done after dark with all the candles snuffed and our nightclothes on.”

Victoria giggled softly. “And definitely no more than once a month.”

“Now you are jesting,” he said as he pulled her closer so she could feel his erection jutting between them.

“Somerton,” she said in a serious tone. “What makes you certain that there is a missive?”

He lay back against the bed and sighed. “I’m not. But until I know for certain, I must assume my information is correct.”

“Who do you think the message is for?”

“I would rather not say just yet.” He threw off the covers and picked up his trousers. “I shall ring for a bath.”

“Thank you. Are you going out with the other men to cut down an evergreen today? Hannah said Lord Farleigh insists the tree be cut and installed in the house before the ball tomorrow night.”

“If Hardy goes, so will I.”

“Hannah asked me to help her with the decorations for the ball. She assumed I would have experience being the daughter of a squire.” She pulled on her flannel nightgown to cover herself.

“Are you nervous?”

“A little. I have no experience decorating for a ball.”

“Just pretend you are Jennette, Avis, or Elizabeth. Surely you have heard them discussing what must be done before they entertain?”

She had, but rarely had she added her ideas to the discussion. The ball tomorrow night would be the first she had ever attended. There would be more people attending from the local area. And there would be dancing. People would expect her to dance. She bit down on her lip in thought. Seeing the couples dancing the other night, she’d so wanted to join them.

“What is wrong?” he asked, walking toward her. “You look quiet pensive.”

“It is nothing,” she replied with a shake of her head.

“Something with the ball?”

“No, I shall be fine.” She turned away and walked to the linen press. Perhaps she should feign a headache tomorrow night. But she could not do that because if Somerton needed her, she must be in attendance.

She would have to pretend her ankle was still bothering her and refuse all dances.

Anthony watched her reaction to the conversation about the ball and realized why she’d become so preoccupied. After eating a quick breakfast, Anthony sought out Hannah and explained that after mourning her husband for two years, Victoria felt apprehensive about dancing.

Hannah assured him he could have the music room uninterrupted while the men were on the hunt for a tree to place in the house. With that settled, he roamed the house searching for Nicholas. He finally found his friend in the conservatory with a book on his lap.

“Nicholas, I have been looking for you.”

Nicholas looked up from his book as Anthony closed the door behind him. “Is there a problem?”

“No, I need a favor.” Anthony took the seat across from him.

“You know I will do whatever I can. What do you need?” Nicholas closed his book and placed it on the table.

“I need to stay here this afternoon while the gentlemen go with Farleigh to cut down a tree. Can you keep an eye on Hardy if he decides to attend?”

“Of course. Why can’t you go?”

“Victoria is worried about the ball tomorrow. She has never attended a ball and has never danced.”

Nicholas smiled. “I would be happy to stay behind and teach her myself. I have been told by many women that I am a wonderful dancer.”

“I am sure you are, however,
I
will teach her to dance.”

“I do love the jealous tone of your voice.”

“Go to the devil, Ancroft.” He hated the thought that someone might see that he cared for Victoria. That could put her in danger. He couldn’t let something happen to her because of this job.

“I’m quite sure I will, Somerton. But you may beat me there.”

“Have no doubt about that,” Anthony added. There was no saving his soul at this point in his life.

“I will follow Hardy,” Nicholas said with a sigh. “Have you found anything yet?”

“No.”

“I suppose mistakes can be made.”

“Unfortunately, the people who give the information are usually as trustworthy as the criminals themselves,” Anthony commented. “Have you decided what you will do after the party?”

“I believe I will travel for a short while. Get away from the cold of England in January. Then when I return, I will probably have to start my search for a bride. My father is rather upset that at the age of nine and twenty I haven’t settled down and had a brood of boys for him.”

“The curse of being a peer,” Anthony said. “At some point, I will be in the same situation. Although, I do believe my father may be coming to terms with the idea of my not marrying.”

Nicholas waved a hand at him. “You will marry, Somerton. But only for love.”

“It’s not love I’m looking for.”

Nicholas eyed him carefully. “I have seen and heard the reactions of your attempts to gain acceptance back into Society. You want respectability.”

“I seem to have lost that trait during the past ten years. It’s been suggested that I marry to retrieve it.”

Nicholas shrugged. “Respectability is overrated. Marry for love, Somerton.”

“Says the man who loved his mistress until his father paid her off, leaving said man with a young daughter to raise.”

“That was a long time ago,” Nicholas said with a grimace. “I heard about a woman in London. A matchmaker. It’s said that she can find your true love. I may try her when I return from the Continent. Her name is Miss Reynard. I believe she may even be friends with my cousin, Elizabeth.”

Wonderful, Anthony thought. Now Sophie would be after him to help Nicholas find a match. “Good luck with that. I believe I shall do as recommended and get my respectability back.”

“Come along, Anne,” Lady Farleigh said as Victoria walked down the hall.

Victoria had no idea what Hannah was up to this morning. Almost as soon as Victoria had finished breakfast, Hannah had insisted she join her. “Where are we going?”

“We have only an hour or two while the men are gone to refresh your memory on a few of the basic steps to a couple of dances.”

They entered the room and Victoria looked over at Somerton who was lounging in a chair with a sardonic smile on his face. He’d told Lady Farleigh that she could not dance! “And why is Lord Somerton here?”

Lady Farleigh laughed. “To be your partner. And since you cannot dance without music, I will play the pianoforte while Lord Somerton dances with you.”

“Very well,” she said, waiting for Somerton to move. She had no idea if he was a good dancer or not. Then again, it hardly mattered as long as he could teach her a few dances.

“What shall we start with first, Somerton?”

“A waltz. I know it’s your favorite, Hannah, so it’s bound to be played more times tomorrow than any other music,” Somerton replied. “Besides, with just the two of us, it will be easier to teach her that than a quadrille.”

“And much more enjoyable,” Hannah added with a smile. She paged through some music and said, “Any time you are ready, Somerton.”

Victoria swallowed as he rose and walked over to her. He gave her a sardonic smile before holding out his arms. She took a step forward and clasped her hand in his. Feeling the heat of his bare hand on her back caused a tiny shiver to roll through her body. Seeing his smile widen, she knew he’d felt it too.

She attempted to pay attention as he gave her the brief instructions needed to perform the dance. Hannah started to play and he counted out the steps for Victoria.

“One, two, three,” he said in his deep voice. She stepped on his boots. “Try it again.”

Hannah started from the top of the song. After five attempts, Victoria stopped. “I will never get this.”

He looked back at Hannah. “Would you give us two minutes alone, Hannah?”

“Is that all it takes you now, Somerton?” she replied with a seductive smile.

He arched one brow at her and shook his head.

“Very well,” she said before walking across the wood floor. She closed the door behind her.

“Now look at me,” Anthony said, staring down at Victoria. “A waltz is everything you love.”

“What do you mean?”

He brought her back into his arms but closer this time. “It’s scandalous to dance a waltz. You must stand in a man’s arms with his hand on your back. It is almost seductive the way your body melts with his.”

She stared up at the green tone of his eyes and paid no attention to anything else.

“With a waltz, body parts might actually touch, causing all sorts of inappropriate sensations.” He pulled her even closer and they moved together without any music.

Her body heated from the close contact. She wanted more than a dance right now.

“You are dancing, sweetheart,” he whispered.

“What?” her feet stopped moving. “I was not!”

His smile caused her heart to pound in her chest. “Yes, you were.”

Just then, Hannah strolled back into the room. “It looks as if you two are getting along much better now.”

Victoria backed away. “He was teaching me to dance, nothing else.”

Hannah shrugged and returned to the pianoforte. “Start at the beginning. And this time, if you make a mistake, keep going.”

Anthony pulled her back into his arms but not as close as before. “Ready?”

Victoria nodded. This time when the music started, she kept her eyes on him. They glided across the dance floor as if they had done this a hundred times.

“Much better,” he said softly.

After practicing the dance for the better part of two hours, they heard the gentlemen return. Victoria’s feet ached. She sat down on the sofa while Anthony left so Hardy didn’t catch them together.

“So what are you two really about?” Hannah said as she walked to the sofa.

“What do you mean?”

“Somerton told me you hadn’t danced in several years because of mourning for your husband. You looked as if you had never danced a day in your life.”

Embarrassment heated her cheeks. “I have never danced a waltz before, Hannah. It is a newer dance and is only just becoming accepted.” At least she hoped that was a correct statement. She’d heard Jennette speak about how wonderful the dance was, but even her friend had told her that it was slightly wicked.

“Then why don’t you show me the steps for a minuet. That is a much older dance and I am sure you must have danced it before.”

Victoria looked away. She did not belong here or anywhere that involved Society. Even Hannah, a former prostitute and mistress was better at comporting herself in Society than she. If it weren’t for the money, she would never have agreed to attend with him. Just keeping up the pretense of being a vicar’s daughter became tiresome, but pretending to be a lady was impossible.