Once Upon a Scandal

by Delilah Marvelle

  He forced more strength into his voice. “After I’d passed several amiable months of service, the marchesa grew fond of me. Overly fond. Cornelia and my stepmother were thanking me for lavish gifts I never sent and soon I found myself being asked to dine with the marchesa whenever her husband was unavailable. Eventually, the mandated livery I wore was replaced with extravagant clothing. At the time, I assumed I was being extended respect due to my nobility, for she never once indicated amorous interest. Until one night, my belongings were casually moved from the servant’s quarters to the room connected to her bedchamber.”

  He shifted his jaw and struggled to keep his voice steady. “I informed her that nothing could persuade me to degrade myself in so vile a manner. I also informed her that the moment her husband returned from his travels, I would seek to remove myself from their service. I was true to my word. Upon her husband’s return, I informed him of my resignation, requesting all debts be returned to my name. Out of respect for their marriage, I offered no explanation, only apologies. Marchese Casacalenda was not by any means pleased. He—”

  Victoria gasped, her hand tightening against his. “Marchese Casacalenda? The man responsible for the merchant rape?”

  Jonathan drew strength from the squeeze of that hand. He wasn’t in the least bit surprised Victoria knew the man’s name after the notorious rape of a British merchant’s daughter a little over a year ago. “Yes. I take it you’ve heard of him.”

  “His vile deeds were printed and reprinted in every rag across London. Even my father, when he was still of sound mind, was outraged when the Austrian government in Venice only fined him a thousand pounds and waved him off after what he did to that poor girl. She was barely fifteen and will never be the same.”

  “Yes. The Austrian government is good at looking the other way when crimes are committed by men as powerful as the marchese.”

  She leaned down toward him, shaking his hand. “So what happened? You didn’t remain in his service, did you?”

  “Yes. I did. All five years.”

  “Oh, Remington. How could you? How could you take his money and—”

  “Allow me to finish, Victoria,” he bit out in riled agitation. “At the time, I was unaware of the sort of man I was dealing with. Until I tried to leave his service. After refusing the money he threw at me, the marchese retrieved a pistol and set it against my head. He announced his wife desired very few things in life and that it was my duty, as her cicisbeo, to oversee those desires.”

  “Oh, dear God,” Victoria whispered.

  He swallowed, remembering the feel of the metal digging into his temple all too well. “He assured me that if I ever tried to leave before my contract was over, Cornelia and my stepmother would find themselves at the bottom of the Adriatic Sea. That is when I ended all forms of contact with you, in fear he would discover my attachment to you and use you against me, as well. And so I…stayed. What was my sense of honor and pride compared to the deaths of those I loved? I had no financial means to protect them or a means to send them away and I—”

  Victoria’s other hand jumped to his lips and pressed them firmly together, preventing him from saying any more.

  He stiffened and glanced up.

  Her tear-glossed jade eyes met his.

  He stared up at her in astonishment, unable to believe he had finally shattered that stone façade of hers. It gave him hope that perhaps the Victoria he’d once known and loved was still buried within that soul somewhere, and was merely waiting to be rescued. Much like him.

  She sniffed against tears that trickled down her face. Releasing her quivering fingers from his lips, she squeezed his hand with both of hers. “Stand. There is no need for any more of this. Stand. I forgive you.”

  He drew in a harsh breath. She…forgave him? Already? When he had yet to forgive himself for his own stupidity in entrusting his entire family into the hands of a savage?

  Jonathan grabbed hold of her arms and dragged her down onto the marble floor. He forced her onto her knees before him in the corridor, spreading her gown against his thighs and the floor around them. He didn’t have the strength to stand in that moment. “You are forgiving me?” he demanded achingly, searching her face.

  She sighed and nodded, but would not look at him. “Since I last saw you, I have learned many things. I have learned that sometimes we must turn away from ourselves and what we hold to be true in order to survive. You learned to survive as best you could and I learned to survive as best I could. Hold your head up again, Remington, and know that I do not judge you for it.”

  Jonathan tried to swallow against the tightness in his throat. But couldn’t. He felt as if a huge burden had been lifted from his soul. One he had not been able to dislodge all these years.

  With his strength returning tenfold, he circled an arm around her waist and rose, yanking them both onto their feet. He dragged her closer, bringing her entire body against his own, wanting to remember this moment for the rest of his life. Upon whatever was left of his soul, he vowed that nothing would ever come between them ever again. Nothing.

  She tilted her chin up toward him, her gathered blond hair falling away from the sides of her face and swaying. “This changes nothing between us. Understand that I have nothing left to give.”

  Disappointment bit into him, although he sensed himself beginning to understand her more. He tightened his hold on her, digging his fingertips into her curves. “You are misleading yourself into thinking there is nothing left within you. You offer me forgiveness, and that requires an astounding strength few have.”

  Someone cleared his throat. Twice.

  Jonathan glanced up, his arms tightening around Victoria, pressing her softness against him. She tried to scramble out of his embrace, but he only tightened it savagely, causing her to gasp against him.

  Grayson shifted from foot to foot and adjusted his evening coat, glancing sheepishly toward Lord More land, Mr. Parker and Sir Thorbert, who were all awkwardly loitering in the corridor barely a few feet away.

  Jonathan didn’t even want to know how long they had all been standing there. Of course, it wasn’t as if he had any pride left. He swallowed and released Victoria, sensing she did not wish to be held anyway. He coolly stepped away.

  Lord Moreland set his hands behind his back and grinned. “Good night.” He offered a curt nod to everyone and disappeared toward the staircase.

  Victoria touched a hand to Jonathan’s arm. “He withdrew his name. In your honor.”

  Jonathan glanced toward her in astonishment and though he fought it, disappointment bit into him all the same. That was why she’d chosen him. Not because she was giving them a chance, but because she’d been forced to take him. Her inheritance depended upon it. Just like she had said.

  He nodded, trying not to let the tone of his voice betray what he felt in that moment. It should have been enough to know he was going to be her husband and yet… “I suppose I should thank Lord Moreland.”

  Without meeting her gaze, Jonathan rounded her and stalked toward the staircase. “Lord Moreland?” he called out.

  The man paused on the staircase and turned toward him, his dark brows coming up. “Yes?”

  Jonathan cleared his throat and made his way down toward him, jogging down a few steps. He paused directly before him and stiffly held out a gloved hand. “I wish to apologize for my earlier behavior. I did not realize you withdrew your name. Might I ask why?”

  Lord Moreland grabbed hold of his hand and shook it. “Need there be a reason? It is what it is. Good night.” Lord Moreland released his hand and trotted down the remaining stairs, rounding out of sight.

  Some men, like Lord Moreland, were born with admirable qualities that saved them from the noose known as folly. Whilst some men, like himself, were born with damnable qualities that sent them straight to the gallows in the name of stupid love.

  Jonathan blew out an exhausted breath and pushed himself away from the railing. He made his way back up toward the smal
l crowd gathered at the top of the stairs. “Is it midnight?”

  “Not quite,” Mr. Parker announced, yanking on his chain and pulling out his pocket watch. He glanced at it and shrugged. “But all is as it should be. The earl expected her decision to rest with you.”

  Jonathan refrained from growling. Victoria’s decision hadn’t rested with him. She had been forced into accepting him. And he couldn’t help but feel betrayed by her. He expected more from her. Not this.

  He paused on the landing beside Grayson and eyed him. “I require some time with Victoria. There are many things she and I have to discuss. Am I allowed to escort her home and allot that time for that purpose? Or would I be overstepping my bounds by assuming I can do so without a chaperone?”

  Grayson swiveled toward Victoria and snorted, waving a hand toward her. “She’s her own damn chaperone from this night forth. Go on. Take her. And use the carriage I arrived in. After you escort her home, if you’re up for it, I have a few snifters of brandy waiting.”

  “I will require more than a few snifters.”

  “Yes. So will I.” Grayson spun back toward Victoria and spread his arms apart wide. “Who is your favorite cousin who oversees your every need and desire?”

  Victoria lowered her chin. “Grayson, I doubt you understand any woman’s needs or desires. Let alone mine.”

  Grayson dropped his hands to his sides and huffed out a breath. “A more ungrateful, heartless creature I’ve never met.”

  Jonathan smirked and refrained from agreeing aloud.

  Sir Thorbert smoothed both sides of his curling gray mustache with a hand several times and sighed. “May my brother rest in peace when his time comes. All is as it should be.”

  “Amen.” Mr. Parker slipped his watch back into his pocket and set his gloved hands together. “Lord Remington. Tomorrow morning, at exactly ten, you must apply for a special license from the archbishop. He will be waiting. A week has been allotted to allow for any complications in attaining said license. The moment your license is approved, we will proceed with an informal ceremony before the earl, as was his wish. You will still be mandated to record your marriage within a parish.”

  Jonathan cleared his throat. “I will ensure it. Is there anything else?”

  Mr. Parker shook his bald head. “No. All other obligations shall fall upon me.”

  Jonathan nodded. “I thank you.”

  Now all he had to do was survive the rest of his life being married to a woman who didn’t want to be married to him at all.

  SCANDAL TEN

  The moment a lady is engaged, she should conduct herself with even more dignity and grace than ever before. Above all, she must avoid gossip. For although an engagement provides security of a match, nothing is ever guaranteed. Which is why it is best to ensure there is no reason for a lady to find herself at the mercy of a broken engagement.

  How To Avoid a Scandal, Author Unknown

  JONATHAN DREW in a deep, soothing breath. Gritty coal smoke tinged the cool night air.

  Steps approached from behind, forcing him to push that large breath back out. He swiveled toward Victoria, who bustled toward him, her white satin slippers peering out with every step from beneath the hem of her verdant skirts.

  Damn her for always looking so delectable and making him weak in the head and the knees. He swept a hand toward the open door of Grayson’s black lacquered carriage. “Where to?”

  “Twenty-eight Park Lane.” She tightened her shawl around her shoulders with the tips of her bare fingers. She had never fetched the gloves he’d earlier removed. “The longest route possible,” she added. “You and I have quite a bit to discuss before you apply for that license.”

  His left brow went up. The woman was going to get herself into trouble. Setting himself against the side of the carriage opposite the footman who held the door open, Jonathan swept up Victoria’s hand. Fingering her warm bare palm, he assisted her up the small set of steps.

  She paused, her slippered foot resting on the last step leading into the carriage, her gown spilling across the length of the steps. She searched his face from where she was perched slightly above him. “I hate to admit it, but you do still look well.”

  Jonathan lowered his chin against his cravat, suddenly feeling as if she were the rake and he the virgin. “That sort of talk will bring the devil to your door. Be mindful not to excite him too much.”

  She gripped the edge of the doorway with one hand, whilst her other hand tightened its hold on his. She leaned closer down toward him. “I meant nothing amorous. ’Twas an observation, is all. I haven’t seen you in five years.”

  He tightened his own grip on her hand as those green eyes penetrated his soul, and though he knew he ought to move back, he couldn’t help but revel in the way his breath drew in that sensuous hint of lavender that drifted up from the heat of her skin. “Admit it. Captain Blue Eyes has seized the illusive mermaid and has at long last brought her ashore.”

  A smirk curved her full lips as if the opposite were true. “Though a wolf may howl at the moon with never-ending devotion, it doesn’t mean the moon is going to fall from the sky. The moon knows its place, Remington. Do you know yours?”

  Well. At least the witty banter remained.

  She swung back toward the opening of the carriage, her heat and scent dissipating. Releasing his hand, she ducked and disappeared, sweeping into one of the seats inside.

  Jonathan smoothed his bound cravat against his throat with the tips of his fingers, feeling unusually warm despite the cool night. An hour wasn’t going to be enough. He needed more time to dig into that head of hers and understand what the hell he was up against.

  Leaning toward the young footman, he announced, “Twenty-eight Park Lane. Allot two hours from departure to arrival. No more. No less.”

  The footman offered a civil nod. “Yes, my lord.”

  He pulled himself up and hopped into the carriage, settling into the seat across from Victoria. He leaned back and blew out a heavy breath, setting his gloved hands onto his knees.

  “Two hours?” Victoria drawled.

  “What? Did you require more time? I can offer you the rest of the night, as well. All you need do is put in your request.”

  She glanced away and said nothing.

  Jonathan smirked and shifted in the upholstered seat as the footman folded the steps and secured the door. Nothing kept him from touching and kissing Victoria now. Nothing but his own pride. He dug his fingers into his knees to distract himself from his need to grab her and prove to her that since he’d last seen her, he’d grown far more artful in the ways of love.

  The carriage clattered forward into the night, causing them to sway against its movement. The dim light of the lanterns set outside the carriage illuminated the small upholstered space that now confined them.

  She smiled and patted the small space beside her. “Come. There are a few things you and I need to discuss.”

  He eyed her. She was being unusually amiable. Which meant the woman wanted something from him. And he doubted it was the same something he wanted from her. “I would rather sit here and ensure we not complicate this.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m not seventeen anymore.”

  “I did not insinuate that you were.”

  “You might as well have, with those words and that tone.” She sighed, fingering the ends of the shawl gathered in her lap, and eyed him. “I do not foresee either of us surviving this. You would forever be twisting your stubborn blade, expecting me to yield, while I would forever be resisting. It would never end. So I need to know. If we marry, would you agree to separate lives in separate households?”

  His breath hitched. She might as well have ripped his heart out through his nostrils and then waltzed about with a bottle of champagne in honor of the insult. “A husband may mean nothing to you, bella, but a wife means everything to me. Whatever your reasons for wanting this marriage, I can assure you I will not allow us to lead separate lives in separate househ
olds. I intend to be a devoted husband and expect you to be a devoted wife.”

  “Surely you don’t intend to bind me to a marriage I am being forced into out of my duty as a daughter?”

  “Welcome to the world of being a woman. Though I should probably point out that I am not by any means binding you to anything. If you have objections to this marriage, which clearly you do, I suggest you take a more practical approach. I suggest we not marry at all.”

  She shook her head. “No. That would mean relinquishing what is rightfully mine.”

  He snorted. “I ask you cease imposing your pathetic notion of matrimony on me.”

  “Gifting you my fortune along with the freedom to do whatever it is you want for the rest of our lives is not exactly what I would call pathetic or imposing. In truth, I think it generous.”

  “Generous?” He shifted against the seat, growing all the more agitated. Why was it everyone seemed to think all he needed to sustain himself was money? It was degrading. “I have my own money, Victoria. More than enough to live comfortably. That said, even if I didn’t have a single farthing, I could never marry for a worthless sack of coins. I already played the part of a whore and will never play that role again. Not even to you. I want a relationship. I want to return to what we once shared and will not agree to anything else.”

  She gestured toward him in exasperation. “You cannot reappear in my life and pretend five years haven’t passed. I am too disillusioned to entertain the sort of relationship you seek.”

  “A loving relationship can offer opportunities to heal. Do you not want to be healed? Do you not want to be loved?”

  “I know nothing of love. And clearly, neither do you, if you insist on imposing it on me.” She was quiet for a long moment, her features tightening. “So you aren’t willing to discuss the possibility of a separation?”

  It was as if he hadn’t said a goddamn thing! He pointed rigidly to his own face. “Do I appear willing? Do I? I beg your pardon, but it appears you need me far more than I need you. Because I do not need to marry you to secure an inheritance. You, on the other hand, need me to secure yours. So if we are going to do this, it will be done my way. Not your way. My way. Which means no separation. You and I will live together, the way a husband and wife should. Do you need me to repeat that for you?”