Once Upon a Scandal

by Delilah Marvelle

  She muttered something to herself as if it was insulting to have her situation pointed out to her. “I cannot imagine going through this angst with you day in and day out for the rest of my life as to what I should and should not feel. I would rather lose everything and live with Grayson.”

  He fisted his hands, digging them into the upholstered seat beneath him, wishing he could somehow dig them straight into the heart she apparently no longer had. “I didn’t realize you loathed me enough to toss aside a hundred thousand pounds.”

  “Better a hundred thousand pounds than my sanity.”

  He squinted at her, trying to understand her better. “Why are you not giving me an opportunity to redeem myself? Do you think me incapable of making you happy? Is that it?”

  She observed him with a lethal calmness that was reflected in her tone. “Yes. I do. And I do not say it to be unkind, for I have no doubt you could make other women very happy.”

  “I do not want other women,” he ground out. “I only want one. I have only ever wanted one. And yet, cursed as I am, she is forever outside of my grasp. Why? Answer me that. Why are you forever outside of my grasp, even though you now sit before me?”

  She sighed. The sort of sigh a parent would bestow upon a child before a lecture. “I will tell you why. Because you have failed to recognize that we have never been alike. Ever. For heaven’s sake, you fall upon your knee when you speak, wanting the entire world to fall upon its knee right along with you. Have you ever considered that perhaps the world does not revolve around you? Do forgive me, but I will not lead my life according to your interpretation of passion. I already tried that once and it nearly destroyed me. I am not doing it again.”

  He narrowed his gaze. So. She wanted to wage a war against his passions and his ability to fall upon his knee in earnest, did she? So be it. He’d wage his own war, and in turn, gather all spoils, including every last shard of that heart. A heart that had clearly forgotten its purpose in life. Because a life without love and without any passion was a life without breath. “So you will only marry me if I agree to us leading separate lives? Is that what you are informing me of?”

  “Yes.”

  “And this has nothing to do with you despising me?”

  “Of course not. I could never truly despise you, Remington. I will always harbor a certain fondness for you. Always.” A fondness? Bloody hell, there was the death knell to their relationship if he ever heard one. “So you will not marry me under any other circumstance?”

  “No.”

  He’d endured worse.

  He nodded, fully accepting this amorous war she had set between them. He was going to convince her she was wrong. He was going to convince her that he was the man for her with every last breath left within him, and by the end of it, she would be the one falling upon her knee. Not him. “Very well. I will marry you and agree to the separation you seek.”

  She straightened, shifting toward him. “You will?”

  “Yes. Though only under two provisos. Are you prepared to meet them? Or am I wasting my time?”

  “I will oversee whatever you set. I will also ensure you receive half the estate. You will never want for anything again.”

  “If that much is true, then you might as well hand yourself over to me now. For you are all I want out of this.”

  “Remington, please. Learn to respect what it is I feel and what it is I think. You cannot force someone into loving you merely because you want them to.”

  He shrugged, knowing she was right. “I am acknowledging what you feel and what you think, Victoria. But that doesn’t mean I have to accept it.”

  She huffed out a breath. “What are the provisos? Do you intend to name them? Or am I supposed to guess?”

  Little did she know that by agreeing to his conditions, she was already agreeing to be his. He spaced his words evenly. “One. The moment we are wed, you will travel with me to Venice. Two. Once there, you will remain at my side and play the role of a dutiful wife for a month. When your month is over, if you still wish to live a life apart from mine, I will remain in Venice whilst you travel back to London. We will do so and there will be no further contact. Any questions?”

  She blinked several times, then whispered hoarsely, “You cannot expect me to leave. Traveling to Venice, even on a private steamship, will take at least two weeks. My father may not live to see my return.”

  He leaned farther back against the seat. “For this to be fair, Victoria, sacrifices will have to be made on both sides. I will be destroying any chance of taking a wife if I marry you and then agree to a separation. I will also be sacrificing you against my will. What do you intend to sacrifice? Money? That is not a sacrifice. That is a donation. Your father has had you at his side for two and twenty years. I am only asking for one month of your life.”

  Her eyes widened. “What if my father were to die whilst I am abroad? What then?”

  “I would never ask you to leave his side, Victoria, if I believed he was on his deathbed. I have already visited with your father several times and have spoken extensively to his physicians. They assure me that despite his mental lapse, he is still physically very strong and will last for at least another six months. Which is why I am only asking for a month. From what I was told, your father doesn’t even know you exist and therefore you can easily excuse yourself without affecting him mentally or physically.”

  Her gaze narrowed. “The Remington I once knew would have never demanded this of me.”

  “Regrettably, the Remington you once knew was drawn and quartered back in Venice.” Being in service to the Casacalendas had certainly seen to that. But the one good thing to have come of it was that unlike the old Jonathan, who forever submitted to defeat in the name of what was right, the new Jonathan didn’t know how to accept defeat. He’d choked on enough defeat.

  She slowly shook her head. “I can only grieve for the Remington I once loved.”

  Jonathan tsked. “Before you grieve too much, I ought to point out that the Victoria I once loved also appears to have disappeared. She had a measure of compassion and understanding within her that you do not have at all. So in that, we are equally matched in our grief.”

  Victoria squinted at him hatefully and shook her head from side to side, her features twisting in silent suffering. She kept on shaking her head.

  Jonathan refused to submit to guilt. Not in this. Not when it came to relinquishing the only thing he’d ever wanted: their happiness. “I will give you until the end of this ride to decide what it is you want. As you know, I have been instructed to apply for our license with the archbishop tomorrow morning at ten. I have no intention of doing so if we are not in agreement and therefore will sit here in silence until you inform me as to how I should proceed.”

  With that, they sat in silence.

  Every single passing minute stabbed at him as the carriage swayed. Hell if he knew how much time had actually passed, but he did know he would have preferred slitting his own throat than suffering through any more of this.

  Victoria closed her eyes and half nodded, her face softening. Eventually, she opened her eyes. Leaning back against the seat, she replied in a choked tone, “I agree.”

  He searched her face in astonishment. “You agree?”

  “Yes. I agree.” She nodded solemnly. “I will ensure my uncle charters a private steamship so that our travels are expedited. All expenses incurred will be pursed by my father’s estate. After my obligated month to you is over, I will return to London without further contact or expectations other than those relating to the estate. I will ensure you receive half. Are we in agreement?”

  “Yes.” He lifted an inquisitive brow. “And how are we to consummate our marriage? It won’t be legal unless we do.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I did not by any means forget. Might I ask what you intend to do if you get me with child? Or is that your plan?”

  He shifted his jaw. What if he couldn’t convince her she belonged with him and he did get h
er with child? What then? “I will raise our child in Venice.”

  She shook her head and kept shaking it. “No. You must ensure no child comes of this. I refuse to separate a child from either of us. It would be cruel.”

  So she wasn’t as heartless as she appeared. His Victoria was still buried in there. Somewhere. “I will ensure my seed never touches your womb. Will that please you?”

  She glanced away and nodded.

  “Good. So you will travel with me to Venice?”

  She sighed. “Yes.”

  By the end of the month, she would be his. All his. He smiled and patted the seat beside him, wondering if she would let him kiss her. “Now that we are friends, come here.”

  She stared at him. “I would rather not.”

  “I ask that we seal our alliance with a kiss.”

  She choked. “I… No.”

  “Why not?”

  “I prefer we not do anything that involves touching until after we marry.”

  “Coward.” Jonathan trailed his gaze across Victoria’s full lips and down the soft, pale curve of her exposed neck toward those full breasts. He grew hard, knowing she was no longer a fantasy, but at long last, a reality. “Why do you have to be so damn beautiful? Hmm?”

  She brought her shawl tighter against herself as if that would somehow shield her from whatever advances he had in mind. “Do not say such things or look at me like that.”

  He smirked. “You cannot tell me what to say or do, Victoria. Though it may irk you, I am beyond your control. And that is exactly what intimidates you about me, isn’t it? Your inability to control me and my so-called passions.”

  “I could care less about your inability to control yourself around me. That is your problem, not mine. And despite what you think, I am not intimidated by you.”

  “Oh, yes, you are.”

  “No, I am not.”

  “No?”

  “No.”

  He casually held up a finger, silently preparing her for a demonstration. He cleared his throat, then enthusiastically patted the carriage seat beside him and smiled graciously. “Come here, Victoria dearest. I want you to drape your arms around me and kiss me the way you kissed me that night. Will you? Please?”

  She lowered her gaze, her fingers playing with the fabric of her gown. “Cease.”

  He pointed at her. “You see. Everything about me intimidates you. Even a mere kiss.”

  She set her chin. “I am a lady.”

  “I know full well what you are, but that is not why you deny me. You deny me because I represent the very thing you prefer to avoid: emotion. But from this night forth, and every day you have allotted to me, I vow to make you swallow emotion at every turn. You will swallow every kiss, every word, every touch and every hour we make love. Rest assured, bella, after a week, you will like what I offer. After two weeks, you will love what I offer. And after three weeks, you will not only love what I offer, but will find yourself unable to breathe without me. And after those four weeks, you will never leave my side and this will all seem like a dream.”

  She stared him down. “You really need that ego of yours castrated. You seek to coo, kiss, touch and bed me, thinking that is what it will take to make me love you?” She feigned a laugh. “Go on. Tell me how much you love me, then grab me and kiss me and bed me if it will please you. Simply know that I will endure all of it, whilst counting aloud the days until our month is done.”

  How he wished he wasn’t a gentleman. “You must be willing to be grabbed, kissed and bedded, Victoria. Otherwise, I am not in the least bit interested in doing anything with you.”

  Her gaze sharpened. “Then I suppose this marriage will never be consummated.”

  He lowered his chin. “Your unwillingness to engage in intimacy does not surprise me. Because you and I both know that if you were to submit physically, in time, you would also submit emotionally. Which is why I am at an advantage and you are at a disadvantage. Because unlike men, you women lack the ability to separate emotion from physicality.”

  She sat up, clearly provoked. “You speak as if I represent every female you ever met.”

  He tsked. “Your pride is showing, bella.”

  She pointed at him. “We will see whose pride gets hanged by the end of this, you romantic sop.”

  “Is that a challenge?”

  “You had best believe it. I intend to laugh and laugh at your attempt to woo me.”

  Pride was such a wicked thing. Hell. He might as well start breaking her and that damn pride now.

  Jonathan leaned over to each side and yanked the brocaded window curtains closed, leaving only enough of an opening to filter in the soft light from the lanterns attached to the carriage. Enough light to allow them to see one another. “How about a real challenge, Victoria? I will prove to you here and now that you have no understanding of the level of intimacy that can exist between us. That your understanding of intimacy is completely different from reality.”

  She glared. “Why am I not surprised that you are already looking for a vile opportunity to ravage me? You men are all so disgustingly predictable.”

  “You have no idea what I have in mind.”

  She snorted. “Shall I sit on your lap and raise my skirts for you? Is that what you have in mind?”

  “No. That is not what I want. This is not about taking you physically, Victoria. This is about challenging you to look at intimacy in a way you refuse to.”

  She eyed him. Although she said nothing, he knew she sought to understand his meaning.

  He leaned forward slightly. “What I want will not require touching or kissing at all. You will retain your chastity and I will retain my honor until we are both wed. How is that for predictable?”

  She dropped her hand to her side and stared. “You wish for us to be intimate without involving any touching or kissing?”

  “Exactly.”

  She blinked. “I don’t understand.”

  “I do not expect you to. You have led a very sheltered life and know very little about what really goes on between a man and a woman.”

  She snorted. “I know enough to make you moan.”

  He bit back a growl, having no doubt whatsoever. “Yes. But can you do it without touching or kissing me? Can you do it without words? Because those are the rules.”

  She squinted at him. “No touching?” she echoed.

  “No touching.”

  “No kissing?”

  “No kissing.”

  “At all?”

  “At all.”

  “That cannot be possible.”

  “Anything is possible with Captain Blue Eyes.” He grinned, fully enjoying how genuinely flustered she appeared whilst trying to understand him.

  She dropped her hand in exasperation. “There is no such thing as a man and a woman being physically intimate without them physically touching or kissing.”

  “There is such a thing.” He sat up and shrugged off his evening coat from his shoulders and arms, letting it fall behind him and around his waist. “Would you like me to remove my shirt and waistcoat for you?”

  She shifted against the seat and glanced toward his chest then toward the covered glass windows of the carriage. She shifted against the seat again. “Please don’t take off your shirt and waistcoat.”

  “Why not?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest in agitation and drawled, “You might as well remove your trousers instead. I would think that would be of better use to whatever you have in mind.”

  His erection tightened. “I hate to disappoint you, but my trousers stay on. But I will make you wet and I will make you moan. Without a single touch.”

  She wrinkled her nose, dropping her arms back to her sides. “Has no one ever told you what really goes on between a man and a woman? Or do you need me to elaborate?”

  He let out a laugh and wagged a finger at her. “You had best not provoke me, woman. You will not like it.”

  She eyed him tartly. “You are the one provok
ing me. If what you seek to do allows me to retain my chastity and does not involve you touching or kissing me, have at it. You’ll not see me resisting. In fact, I am beyond curious as to what immaculate conception looks like.”

  By God, she’d gotten bold. If only she knew what she was getting herself into. “So you are giving me full permission to proceed?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you promise to cooperate with whatever I tell you to do for the next half hour as long as I do not touch or kiss you?”

  She hesitated, as if weighing what the advantages and disadvantages of her situation were, then spoke matter-of-factly, “Yes. As long as there is no touching, no kissing, and I retain my chastity, have at it. Those are the rules. Now go on. Let the Holy Ghost descend.”

  “You will regret saying that.” Jonathan gave her body a raking gaze, wishing upon his soul he could touch her and make her realize what she made him feel. “Do you know how to pleasure yourself? Have you ever done so in the privacy of your bed? Or do I need to educate you on this?”

  Sitting back against the seat, he removed his gloves and tossed them aside. He slid his hands to the buttons on his trouser flap, unfastening all four. Watching her, he shoved both the flap and his undergarment beneath down and freed his hard length. Its heat pulsed against the cool air. “I want you to pleasure yourself. So I can watch. And I will do it right along with you, so you can watch me, too.”

  She gasped, her lips parting and her eyes remaining firmly affixed to his face. “What on earth did they teach you over there in Venice? This goes beyond a mere dalliance and is anything but civil.”

  “How quickly your sails doth turn against a mighty wind.” He intently met her pretty jade eyes, his chest heaving, and purposefully slid his hand over the tip of himself. A bolt of pleasure shot down his body and his legs, tightening his muscles in response. “This is between you and me, Victoria, and we are about to become husband and wife. Therefore I say it is very civil. We are not touching. We are not kissing. And more importantly, you will retain your chastity until we are wed. Now lift up your skirts, push your hands up between your thighs and touch yourself. I’ll show you what to do. You told me you would cooperate this next half hour. So cooperate.”