Making of a Scandal (The Gentleman Courtesans Book 3)

by Victoria Vale

  “Mr. Lewes doesn’t strike me as a murderer, and you heard what Mr. Sterling said. Your Dominick is adept with a pistol and capable of defending his own life.”

  With a groan, she buried her face in her hands. The viscount simply gave her back a comforting pat and went on.

  “You really do love him, don’t you?”

  She peered at her father and smiled for the first time in hours. “I do, Papa. I never thought I could come to feel this way for another person, but I do love him. I know I’ve made such a mess of things, taking so long to acknowledge it and put a stop to the wedding—”

  “My dear,” he cut in with a laugh. “You are talking to a man who took an Indian wife, sired two children on her, and had every intention of bringing her back to England to introduce her to society as my viscountess. And need I also remind you that I have made no secret of my religious conversion or my affinity for hookah and peshwaz robes? If anyone is familiar with the necessity of stirring up a bit of scandal to follow one’s heart, it is I.”

  They shared a laugh, Calliope’s mood lightening as she took comfort in her father’s acceptance of her choice.

  “I do not regret a single part of it,” he added with a wistful smile. “I lost friends and the love of my family, and I was derided as a betrayer of my homeland for years. But it gave me Vedah for a short time. It gave me the greatest gift of all … you.”

  “Oh, Papa.” She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. “Thank you.”

  “You will always have my unwavering support, my dear. If it means anything to you, I favored Burke from the start.”

  They went silent after that, time seeming suspended as she latched onto the hope his words inspired and held fast. She closed her eyes and sank into the warmth of his embrace, nearly drifting off to sleep. A commotion in the entrance hall propelled her to her feet, and her sari fell to the floor, forgotten as she rushed into the corridor.

  A horrified cry tore from her as Benedict and the man who had been introduced to her as Aubrey Drake, came through the front door with Nick propped up between them. His arms draped over their shoulders, his steps were sluggish and heavy as they urged him forward. A third man—David Graham, closed the door behind them, while Mr. Hugh Radcliffe stood by holding the cedar box containing the dueling pistols, Nick’s coat and waistcoat draped over one arm.

  “What happened?” she exclaimed, noticing that Nick’s shirt had been cut open on the left side. The gaping hole was stained bright crimson, and clean, white linen covered what she assumed must be a wound.

  Nick lifted his head and fixed glassy eyes on her, his face pale and strained. “I will live, goddess. It’s nothing.”

  “You’ve been shot! Don’t tell me it’s nothing!”

  “The surgeon says the wound is minor,” Benedict offered, shrugging to adjust Nick’s weight. “Fortunately, the ball went straight through, missing vital organs. All he needed was stitching up and a little laudanum for the pain.”

  Nick grinned at her, the motion shaky and crooked as the effects of the potion held him firmly in its thrall. “You’re so beautiful. I love you.”

  “Quiet,” she growled, casting a glare at Benedict. “I thought you said he was a good shot … that everything would be all right.”

  David rolled his eyes, looking quite put out as he gestured toward Nick. “The idiot deloped at the last second and gave Lewes a clear opening to kill him.”

  “Knew he didn’t have the balls,” Nick slurred, his head dropping and his hair falling into his eyes. “Shot straight up in the air.”

  “Deloping was the only way,” Aubrey protested. “By admitting guilt, Nick has restored Lewes’s honor and the man is satisfied. And Lewes would never have killed him. You know … having no balls and all.”

  David chuckled and Hugh snorted, while Benedict merely looked annoyed.

  Calliope took a deep breath, choosing to be heartened that the matter had been dealt with as opposed to angry with Nick for purposely missing his shot and putting his life in peril.

  Diana came running down the stairs then, calling for servants to prepare a bed and bellowing for Hastings to send for a physician. It then became Calliope’s turn to comfort her sister as Aubrey and Benedict practically carried Nick up the stairs. Once Hastings and the viscount arrived to take the hysterical pregnant woman in hand, Calliope followed the men, finding that Nick was being placed in a room just down the corridor from her own. His shirt, boots, and stockings were stripped away, and two maids turned down the bed while a third worked to get a fire going in the hearth.

  She hovered at his bedside, coming closer as he held one hand out to her. His grip on her was weak, but she pressed a finger to his wrist to find his pulse beating strong.

  “Don’t worry, Anni,” he mumbled, eyes drooping heavily. “I’ll be right as rain in no time. Then … you are going to marry me.”

  She raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh, I am, am I?”

  Half his mouth curved in a smile just before he finally lost consciousness, but not until he’d had the last word. “’Course you will. Told you … meant to be …”

  Her shoulders sagged and she turned to face the men lingering near the door, watching the scene with varying degrees of amusement and curiosity. Apparently, Nick muttering about love and destiny was quite a shock to David, who looked as if he hardly recognized the man before him.

  Aubrey was the first to speak, clearing his throat and running a hand over his close-shaven hair. “If you all don’t mind, I’ll take my leave now. It is my wedding night, after all.”

  Calliope winced, guilt assailing her as she recalled that the man had been married just that morning. “I hope Mrs. Drake will not be too put out with you.”

  He smiled and waved her off. “She insisted I come, knowing I’d have a difficult time thinking of anything else until I knew Nick was safe. Besides, I have my ways of making it up to her.”

  This was met by much nudging of elbows and knowing looks between the courtesans, and flushing cheeks from Calliope. He inclined his head at her in a gracious gesture before turning to depart.

  Hugh followed close behind, mentioning that his wife would want to know the outcome of the duel. He took David with him, offering to carry the other man home in his carriage.

  That left only Benedict, who stood staring at Nick’s sleeping form for a moment before he looked to her.

  “You and I don’t know one another, but Nick clearly loves you, so I will put aside my reservations over the manner of your union and congratulate you instead.”

  “I understand. I’ve had reservations myself, but … my decision feels right. I cannot say I regret it, and I hope he will not, either.”

  He smiled, but the expression held no joy. He struck her as a rather forlorn figure, his eyes deadened and unfocused as he looked away from her and stared across the room.

  “He’s been my friend a long time. I wasn’t surprised when the others came to me claiming to be in love and wanting to be turned loose. But, Nick … he was the last one I ever thought to lose. I always thought it would be he and I left in the end. But, people never stop taking me by surprise. You must be something special, to have snared him so completely.”

  The gruffness in his tone did little to mask his clear disappointment, though Calliope could not fully understand it. Instead of being happy that his friend had found love, he almost seemed to mourn his loss, as if marriage and a new life would end their friendship for good.

  “Benedict—”

  “He’s a complicated man, but a good one. He doesn’t think much of himself, but I know you can encourage him. Don’t let him near the gaming hells, and send for me if he ever takes up wagering again. His father will not accept you—you should know that. But his mother loves him, and she will only be glad he is happy. His sister is a gem, so you can expect to find an ally in her. But, his siblings all have their own lives, and the earl makes it difficult for him to be close to his mother. You are his family now. Take c
are of him.”

  She edged back toward the bed to rest a hand on Nick’s shoulder. He slept, oblivious to what went on around him.

  “I will,” she vowed, hoping he heard in her words the earnestness of her heart. “I promise.”

  Benedict nodded as if satisfied, then took his leave, closing the door behind him with a quiet click. Calliope sank down onto the mattress beside Nick, careful not to jostle him.

  Running her fingers through his hair, she smiled, finding him utterly adorable in sleep.

  “And I promise you, my darling … nothing will ever come between us again.”

  Dominick awakened to find Calliope curled against his uninjured side. Despite the dull throb of his wound, he felt better than he had in months, happy and secure in the knowledge that she was his. The duel with Lewes had been a nasty bit of business, but a necessary one. He expected Calliope to dress him down for deloping, but it had been the right thing to do. Lewes was guilty of nothing more than being a fortune hunter who had chosen the wrong heiress. Nick could have easily killed or wounded him, but had understood the necessity of shouldering the blame—after all, he had stolen the man’s bride right out from under him. Lewes had been owed recompense and Nick had delivered. His body would heal, but his heart would never have recovered from the loss of Calliope.

  He glanced down at her, finding her head resting on his chest, hair streaming behind her in a dark braid across the pillow. She slept peacefully, the sleeve of a white night rail peeking at him from where the coverlet rested over her shoulder. The room he lay in was unfamiliar, so he supposed he must still be in Hastings House, where he remembered being carried after the surgeon had stitched him up and sent him on his way. He wrapped one arm around her and gave her a little squeeze, wincing at the pain even so small a movement sent through his torso.

  “Anni,” he murmured, kissing her brow. “Wake up.”

  It took a bit of gentle prodding, but eventually she opened her eyes, staring at him with an unfocused gaze. He grinned, charmed by the sight of her and grateful to know that in short order he would awaken to this face every morning for the rest of his life.

  “Does your father know you are sharing my bed, you scandalous creature?”

  She yawned, easing herself onto her elbow. “No, actually. I slipped in here after everyone had gone to bed. They all think me tucked away in my own chamber. You’ve been asleep for an entire day. I’ve been worried sick.”

  She looked to the window, the gray light of approaching dawn showing through sheer, gossamer curtains.

  “I’ll have to leave soon, or risk being discovered.”

  He snorted. “After the spectacle we’ve caused, I doubt there is anything else we can do to shock them.”

  She giggled and sat upright, the motion making her nightgown drape off one shoulder. Nick swallowed, his attention snared by the revelation of that bronze curve of perfect skin.

  “Don’t go yet,” he murmured, reaching out to caress the bared shoulder. “I’m in pain and I need you to comfort me.”

  She frowned, leaning over him to pull the coverlet back and reveal his naked torso. His bandages were still pristine, wound in layers around his waist.

  “Oh, Nick … Are you in very much pain?”

  His cock stirred in his breeches, and he groaned. “Yes. Agony. It’s terrible.”

  She laid a gentle hand on his chest and leaned down as if she could see through his bandages to the injury beneath. “My poor love.”

  “Yes, I am wounded and inconsolable. Perhaps a kiss will make it better.”

  Her head swiveled toward him and she narrowed her eyes, though her lips twitched with amusement. “A kiss, hm?”

  He nodded, doing his best to look innocent. “Please.”

  She moved up his body, her lips grazing one nipple and the swell of his chest. He gritted his teeth and pressed his palm against the cockstand fighting for freedom. It had been too long, and their hurried encounter in the storage closet of the foundling home hadn’t nearly whetted his appetite for her.

  Calliope let her mouth graze his lips, but didn’t press into him. She continued her path upward, kissing his brow instead.

  “Better?”

  He glared at her. “Lower.”

  Her smile was coy as she shifted down a few inches, bussing the tip of his nose.

  “Lower,” he growled. “Don’t toy with me.”

  “Oh,” she purred, her lips a soft whisper over his. “But it’s ever so much fun.”

  He raised his head to capture her mouth, delving his tongue in and taking his fill. But, it wasn’t enough. He was burning, his blood heated and rushing straight to his cock. She was here, and his, and he had lived where he might have died. He had to have her, and it couldn’t wait.

  “Lower.”

  Her eyes flashed as they locked with his, holding his gaze as she worked her way steadily downward. His patience was stretched to its limit as she pressed soft, sweet kisses to his chin, his neck, his chest. He hissed when she lapped at his nipple, gripping her braid in his fist.

  “Lower.”

  Her eyes flared with shock as she seemed to realize what he wanted, the hard ridge of his cock pressed to her breast as she lay over him, her lovely mouth hovering above his navel.

  “You said you’d kiss me better. Well, now there’s another matter more pressing than the wound in my side. I’m dying here, goddess.”

  She bit her lip as if anxious in the face of such new territory. Her wide-eyed innocence only made him harder at the prospect of being the one to debauch her.

  Then, she was unbuttoning his fall, coming to her knees. He held his breath, his entire body tensing as his cock sprang up, arcing toward her as if with a mind of its own. He opened his mouth to reassure her, to make her understand there was no need to fear, for there was nothing she could do that he wouldn’t like. But, his voice came out on a choked gasp when she lowered her head and gave him the kiss he wanted, tentative but perfect, right on his swollen head.

  “Christ,” he muttered. “Yes, Anni … don’t stop.”

  Her gaze flicked up to him as she did it again, then again, her tongue creeping out to lap at the bead of wetness seeping from his slit. He groaned, tightening his hold on her hair.

  “Do that again.”

  She obeyed, growing bolder as she realized how much he liked it. He liked it so much he thought it might kill him.

  He cupped her chin, gently prying her lips apart. “Open your mouth. Yes, that’s perfect.”

  She let out a shocked sound as he surged his hips, nudging past her lips and pushing against her tongue. It melted into a moan of acceptance, her lips closing around him. Wet warmth enveloped him, the feel of her tongue and the sight of her with her perfect mouth wrapped around his cock unraveling him. He forgot his injury and thrust again, grunting and dropping his head back as a burst of pain flared in his side.

  Calliope released him, giving him an admonishing glare. “I won’t continue if you cannot keep still. Assistance from you isn’t necessary.”

  “All right,” he panted, squeezing his eyes shut and breathing through the pain, reaching again for the heavenly pleasure. “I’ll be still. Just please … do it again. Suck me with that pretty mouth.”

  His entire body went taut as she took him in again, slowly inching her way down to take half his length, then dragging back up again. Holding still proved more of a challenge than he’d thought, but he overcame the urge to push into her mouth and simply lay there, letting her learn him.

  She tightened her lips around him, her tongue dragging along his shaft, driving him closer and closer to the brink of release with each pass of her lips. She took him in hand and stroked as she sucked, becoming more playful with her tongue—swirling it around his tip, dragging it up and down his length, dipping it into his slit and sending a powerful jolt through him. Then, she took as much of him as she could, her head bobbing in the rhythm set by the nudge of his hand, the suction of her lips driving him wild.
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  “God, Anni … that’s it, just like that … no, slow down, I’m going to … fuck!”

  He gripped her hair and pulled her off him, chest heaving as he fought back the climax welling in his cods and threatening to spill any second. He succeeded, but just barely, staring down at her in disbelief at how quickly he’d nearly spent down her throat.

  “Why did you stop me?” she asked, looking far too delectable with her lips slightly swollen and her eyes glittering. “I wanted you to … I mean, I wouldn’t have minded.”

  “Not this time. I need you, Anni … now.”

  “But your wound—”

  “My injury wouldn’t stop me from fucking you until you screamed, goddess. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll lie here and not move a muscle. As badly as I want to take you, I think this time you’ll have to be the one to take me.”

  She frowned, glancing down at his cock, then back at him as understanding dawned. “Oh … I see.”

  “Good. Get up here and put me out of my misery.”

  He reached for her as she climbed over him, snatching up the hem of her nightgown as she straddled his thighs.

  “Take this off so I can look at you.”

  She flicked open the buttons running down her chest, then slowly peeled the gown off over her head, leaving Nick in a momentary stupor. He followed the progress of the linen over her body as she revealed the sights he craved—the flare of her hips and the gleam of dark curls between her thighs, her smooth belly, the curves of her breasts and the brown caps of her nipples.

  He smoothed his hands up her body, filling his hands with soft, supple skin and womanly curves. She sighed when he cupped her breasts, plying her nipples until they furled tight. She writhed atop him, her cunt brushing against his cock and wetting him with her juices.

  “Fuck, I’m going to die,” he ground out. “I’m going to die right now if you don’t take me inside you. Now, Anni.”

  He gripped himself and angled upward as she rose to settle over him, his crown kissing her slick opening. Gritting his teeth, he gripped her hips and helped her ease her way down, his lips parting to release heavy breaths as he found himself clutched tight, surrounded by throbbing, wet heat. His hands moved up to her waist and he guided her, lifting her halfway up his shaft and then easing her back down.