A Lady’s First Scandal

by Farmer, Merry

  Bianca snorted. “That only goes to show what you know. She’s been entertaining like mad since marrying Lord Malcolm. I think she likes to remind people that she married her Prince Charming in the end. It’s why she’s hosting the ball at Campbell House.”

  Rupert frowned, which Cece found curious. At least until he said, “Campbell House is my residence right now. And Mama wants to host a ball there?”

  “She’s obviously up to something,” Bianca said, gesturing for the two of them to follow her down the hall and into the library once their outerwear was taken care of. “And if you ask me, it has everything to do with getting the two of you well and truly engaged. But I plan to use the event for my own purposes, of course. I am Mama’s daughter, after all.” They reached the library and she turned the corner, sending them a mischievous glance over her shoulder as she did.

  Cece hesitated before entering the room, biting her lip. Bianca had brushed across the idea with lightning speed, but it was clear to her that Rupert had heard the important bit as well as she had. Lady Katya must be hosting the ball in an effort to push the two of them together.

  “I dislike being pushed around,” she told Rupert in a quiet voice.

  “As do I,” he grumbled in return, then marched ahead into the library.

  It was a surprising moment of camaraderie that shifted Cece’s internal balance yet again as they entered the library, the kind of moment that made her want to explore the vagaries of free love, like she’d proclaimed at the miserable ball. At the rate she was going, she probably would find herself formally engaged to Rupert by the end of the week.

  “I didn’t expect to see you back home so early,” Cece’s father said, rising from the sofa he’d been sharing with Lady Katya. He set the book he’d been reading aside and crossed to greet Cece with a kiss on her cheek. “I was under the impression political rallies lasted far longer than an hour and a half.”

  “Lady Tavistock asked me to speak,” Cece said, sending her father a look that reflected the way she’d felt as Henrietta pushed her toward the dais.

  Her father burst into a proud smile. “And how did it go?”

  “Brilliantly,” Rupert answered.

  “Oh?” Lady Katya put her book aside and rose as well. “You were well-received?”

  “She was the highlight of the entire rally,” Rupert said, smiling with as much pride as her father—something she found as unnerving as it was flattering.

  “I was the first one to speak,” she said, downplaying the intensity of the moment. “And I was so dizzy from being the center of attention by the time I stepped down that I had to excuse myself from the crowd.”

  “Understandable,” Lady Katya said, walking up to Cece’s father’s side and slipping her arm around his waist. “I remember the first time I spoke at a political meeting. I was so exhilarated I couldn’t sleep that night.”

  “That wasn’t the only reason you couldn’t sleep that night,” Cece’s father added in a purring voice.

  Sharp embarrassment flared through Cece. She looked away, but that only turned her toward Rupert. Rupert was watching her with a scintillating smile that sent the same sort of restless energy through her that her father and Lady Katya’s display had.

  “What is this about a ball?” she asked, her voice pitched far higher because of her discomfort.

  Lady Katya broke away from her father as she said, “I’ve decided to host a ball next week at Campbell House.”

  “That’s what I told her,” Bianca said, sitting on the sofa beside Natalia, who was deeply absorbed in a book.

  “Any special occasion?” Cece asked.

  Lady Katya smiled mysteriously, glancing from Cece to Rupert. “To celebrate Rupert’s return, of course.”

  “You don’t need to host an entire ball on my behalf, Mama,” Rupert said.

  Whether it was the nagging sensation that she was being manipulated or the restless energy that drew her toward Rupert in ways she wasn’t sure she was ready for, Cece indulged her impulse to be contrary. “It sounds like the perfect occasion to deepen my ties with the May Flowers. You wouldn’t mind if I invited them, would you?”

  “Of course not,” Lady Katya said with genuine enthusiasm. “I would never say no to turning an ordinary celebration into a political event.”

  “Looks like my apple hasn’t fallen far from the tree,” Cece’s father said, moving to kiss her on the cheek once more. “I’ll send word to Alex and Peter to get our gang together again.”

  “Basil and Elaine are going to be in town next week as well,” Lady Katya said, following Cece’s father out of the room. “I can’t wait to see the looks on the faces of London’s high and mighty when Elaine shows up to a ball in Grecian dress, as pregnant as she is.”

  “I should write up a list of my friends for Mama to invite as well,” Bianca said, rising as quickly as she’d sat. She cleared her throat and kicked Natalia’s ankle.

  “Ow,” Natalia protested, frowning up at her sister. “What was that for? I’m in the middle of the best part.” She held up her book.

  “Perhaps you could read it somewhere else,” Bianca suggested. “Or help me with my list.”

  “I’m quite content where I—ow!”

  Bianca kicked Natalia’s shin a second time, then cleared her throat and nodded toward Cece and Rupert. Only then did Natalia seem to understand.

  She gasped and shot to her feet. “I should read this elsewhere,” she said, then marched straight for the door.

  Bianca followed, and, as had become her particular signature moment, just before turning the corner, she glanced over her shoulder and said, “Don’t go getting into trouble while left alone.” She popped around the corner, leaving nothing but her mischievous laugh in her wake.

  Cece sighed and shook her head. “Really,” she said. “You would never know that Bianca is twenty-three now. She still acts like—oh!”

  Before she could finish her sentence, Rupert swept her into his arms, closing her in the sort of intimate embrace she had dreamed of while he was away. He molded her body to his, exciting her from head to toe.

  “I have been given to understand that Bianca will never truly grow up,” he said in a rich, low voice.

  Cece couldn’t stop herself from resting her arms over his shoulders and reveling in the heat and firmness of his body. He’d become deliciously fit in his time as a soldier. It felt good, it felt right, and she wanted more.

  “Your sister is a scandal waiting to happen,” she said, surprised at how thin her voice sounded.

  Rupert stared at her lips with a flash of undisguised desire in his eyes. “You really were magnificent up there this morning,” he said, each breath bringing them closer together. “I’m ashamed that I didn’t suspect you had it in you. I’m ashamed that I didn’t suspect a great many things about you. I should have been paying closer attention.”

  “You should have,” Cece agreed, intoxicated by the way he held her and the shocking lack of distance between their mouths.

  “On my honor, I will pay much, much closer attention to you going forward,” he said, then underscored his promise by slanting his mouth over hers.

  The kiss shouldn’t have come as such a surprise. She was in Rupert’s arms, after all, and he was clearly in a state of arousal. Indeed, it wasn’t the press of lips to lips that startled her. It was the way he savored her with frank appreciation. It was the way his tongue teased her into parting her lips for him and allowing him to plunder her. It was the fervor in the way he held her, their bodies fitting so perfectly together. It was no chaste kiss filled with noble promise, it was a declaration of wicked intent.

  She sighed and threaded her fingers through his hair, captivated by the new territory they were exploring. Sensation rippled through her, bringing to life a spark that turned into a throb deep in her core. It didn’t matter how frustrated she was with Rupert, she wanted more of what he was giving her. Even if it meant her ruin.

  He seemed to hear her unspo
ken request and heeded it by brushing a hand up her side to cradle her breast. She gasped at the sensation, then shivered as his thumb rubbed across her swiftly-tightening nipple. Rupert never would have dared to touch her that way before. She couldn’t make out whether that meant he thought more of her or less.

  At last, he shifted as if he planned to deepen their kiss, but the bristles of his moustache prickled against her tender skin. It was exactly the sort of return to reality she needed. She jerked back, sucking in a breath, and glared at him.

  “How dare you?” she whispered, yanking free of his arms. “Do you think you can take such liberties with me in my own home?”

  “It’s our home,” he said, cheeks pink, lips red, and eyes glazed with passion.

  “Remember yourself, Rupert,” she told him, adding, “And kindly dispose of that ridiculous moustache.” She pressed a hand to her beating heart. Her breasts continued to feel heavy and in dire need of being caressed. But to stay and indulge in those desires would have been a disaster.

  She shook her head and marched past Rupert, then broke into a run when she reached the hall. She didn’t stop until she reached her room and shut the door behind her. As she leaned heavily against it, breathing fast, she squeezed her eyes closed. The last thing she needed was for Rupert to have such a powerful, tempting weapon to use against her. She had only one hope of defense. She would have to learn to use the same seductive sensuality to her own advantage instead of being swallowed up in it.

  Chapter 7

  It was a blessing that Campbell House was so close to Marlowe House. It meant that Rupert could retreat to a space of his own—a space Fergus was making himself quite at home in, much to Rupert’s delight—to rest and regroup, strategize and plan campaigns, and then sally forth right around the corner every morning to continue his siege of Cece’s heart.

  “Can I fetch you a sausage roll?” he asked Cece as he got up from the Marlowe House breakfast table to refill his plate. He desperately hoped she would take the saucy look he sent her along with his request as the ribald suggestion it was intended to be. After their kiss the other day, he’d been able to think of little else but how delicious the parts of her that seldom saw the light of day would taste.

  But Cece answered, “I’m quite content with what I have,” stabbing her eggs with vigor while meeting his grin with a narrow-eyed look of challenge.

  “Suit yourself,” he said, carrying his plate to the sideboard. “But few things are as satisfying as a particularly thick and meaty sausage roll.”

  “Honestly,” his mother said, shaking her head. She glanced across the table to Lord Malcolm as she bit the end off of her own sausage roll.

  Lord Malcolm’s face and neck reddened and he cleared his throat. “This family is ridiculous,” he said in a rough voice, reaching for his coffee and taking a long swig.

  “I suspect we would be banned from all polite interaction with society if anyone were to see us now,” Bianca said with a look of glee that hinted she might enjoy the excitement of being a pariah.

  “Yes,” Natalia agreed, the only one at the table with a modicum of innocence left. “Who in their right mind has sausage rolls for breakfast. They’re meant for luncheon, or so Cook tells me.”

  The rest of the table went silent. Rupert’s mother and Lord Malcolm exchanged another, teasing look. Bianca pressed her lips together and looked discreetly down at her plate, as though trying not to laugh at her sister. Cece reached for a scone and slathered it with cream and jam, but as soon as Rupert returned to the table with his second round of breakfast delights, her hands became unsteady.

  “Do you need help spreading your cream?” Rupert asked, barely able to suppress a laugh.

  His mother snorted in offense. Lord Malcolm glared at him. Bianca burst into a fit of giggles just as she took a sip of tea, resulting in a loud coughing fit.

  “What?” Natalia asked, blinking. “I thought it was a rather nice offer.”

  “Oh, it was,” Rupert said, twitching one eyebrow at Cece.

  Cece huffed and practically threw her scone and knife down. The knife clattered against the edge of the plate as she pushed her chair back and stood. “I’ve had enough of you,” she told him. “Have you no shame? And in front of your family?”

  “Clearly you don’t know my family that well,” he fired back.

  Cece growled in annoyance and pushed her chair back, shifting her mass of skirts to get away from the table.

  “Did I miss something?” Natalia asked. “I thought Rupert was being nice.” She sighed. “I hate feeling left out.”

  “In this situation, dear,” their mother said, “it’s best not to know the undertones of the conversation. We may be an unusual family, but there are limits.” She fixed Rupert with a tight stare.

  “There are no limits in love,” Rupert argued.

  His argument had little chance of being heard the way he wanted it to, however. Cece tilted her chin up and marched out of the room. Rupert grabbed the last sausage roll from his plate and bit into it as he stood, intent on following her.

  “You’re worse than a puppy following the butcher,” Bianca told him, still coughing from her tea mishap.

  “I beg your pardon?” Rupert asked, pausing behind Natalia’s chair in his pursuit of Cece to frown at her.

  “You have a house of your own now,” Bianca pointed out, cleared her throat, then went on. “And yet, you’re always over here, looking for a way to get under Cece’s skirts. One would think the army taught you nothing about honor and decorum. You returned far more of a bounder than when you left.”

  “She is right, you know,” Natalia added, twisting in her chair to stare up at him with frank eyes.

  “I wouldn’t have to be a bounder if the rules of the game hadn’t changed while I was away,” he told his sisters, then glanced to his mother. “Haven’t you always told us we must adjust our tactics in dealing with others to present our case in a way that will be best received?”

  “Are you saying the best way to win my daughter’s hand is to seduce her until she has no choice?” Lord Malcolm asked from the head of the table in a voice that sent ice through Rupert’s veins.

  All at once, his rakish act seemed like as much of a folly as General Colley sending them to escort that blasted mail caravan in Africa, and just as likely to result in high casualties.

  “Forgive me, my lord.” He bowed formally to Lord Malcolm. “I was just having a bit of fun.”

  Lord Malcolm grunted. “See that you do not have too much fun.” He followed his statement by cracking his knuckles. Malcolm Campbell might have been in his mid-fifties, but Rupert had no doubt his stepfather could still kill a man before he knew what happened.

  Rupert bowed to him again then rushed out of the breakfast room as fast as he could. He headed straight to the library, knowing full well Cece liked to read after breakfast. Sure enough, be found her seated in her father’s chair near the fire, glaring at the latest work by the American, Mark Twain, Huckleberry Finn. Her eyes weren’t moving in the natural pattern of one reading, however, which brought a cheeky grin to Rupert’s lips.

  “I’ve come to apologize,” he announced as he strode into the room.

  Without looking up from her book, she said, “I doubt you know what to apologize for.”

  Undeterred, Rupert crossed to her chair and crouched by her side, resting on one knee and looking over her arm at the page she was supposedly reading. “Huckleberry Finn is quite the little scamp, isn’t he?” He glanced up at her with heaps of mock innocence in his eyes.

  Cece peeked sideways at him, then sighed heavily and slapped her book shut. “What do you want from me, Rupert?”

  A surprise twist of earnestness pinched at Rupert’s heart. “I want you to fall in love with me all over again. I want the book of our lives to have a happily ever after. I want you to gaze upon me with the same fondness and adoration that you used to.”

  She twisted to face him, pressing back into the corner
of her chair as she did, and sent him a look of challenge. “Is that all you want?”

  He lowered his other knee to kneel beside her chair, clasping his hands together and propping his elbows on the arm of the chair, as if praying in a confessional. “Tell me what I must do to see that sparkling light of love in your eyes again, my darling, my one, true love.”

  Cece pursed her lips, her expression sour, but her eyes lit with amusement and with provocation. “If you want someone to adore you unconditionally, acquire a kitten,” she said in a flat voice.

  Rupert’s grin widened and his heart beat faster. If he had known years before that sparring with Cece was so much fun, he might never have joined the army and left. “Are you saying I should find a pussy to pet?”

  Cece huffed in indignation. “Really, Rupert. Where has this newfound love of vulgarity come from? It suits you about as much as that horrid thing on your face.”

  “Then it suits me well,” he said, brushing his fingers over his moustache with a cocky smile.

  “No, it does not.” Cece stared hard at him.

  “You know,” he said, trying a different tack and resting his chin on his hand, his arm still propped on the chair, “if you were my wife, you could order me to shave off this offending facial decoration. You could order me to do quite a few things to please you.”

  Cece laughed dismissively. “And what makes you think that a woman has any more power as a wife than she does on her own?”

  “Well, the law your father and his friends passed several years ago, for one.”

  Cece shook her head. “Laws change things on paper but not in hearts.”

  “Then change my heart, dearest one,” he said, reaching for her hand and pulling it to rest on his chest. “Fill me with your love, and I’ll fill you with my—”

  “A letter has come for you, Lady Cecelia,” Mr. Stewart announced from the doorway. It was probably for the best, as Rupert would surely have earned himself a slap if he’d finished his sentence.

  “Thank you, Mr. Stewart.” Cece rose from her chair, tugging her hand away from Rupert and sending him an imperious look before fetching the letter from the butler.