Once Upon a Scandal

by Delilah Marvelle

  Antonio waggled his dark brows and grinned.

  Remington veered back toward Antonio and stared him down. “Try not to ring that bell of yours too much around my wife. I just might hang you up on a church spire.”

  Victoria smacked Remington’s shoulder. “He is letting us ride free. Let him ring all he wants. He’s earned it.”

  Remington dropped his hand to his side and eyed her. “I do not want you feeling uncomfortable. The men here are a bit more forward than what you are accustomed to.”

  “So I have noticed. It has its charm.” She approached the gondola excitedly and glanced back at Remington. “Might I…?”

  “Of course.” He parted the ivory curtains for her, gallantly assisting her into the covered cabin.

  Victoria sank into a plush cushion. Smoothing her skirts around herself and the seat, she glanced around, feeling the buoyancy of the gondola, and yet feeling surprisingly secure and more comfortable than in any carriage.

  Remington settled beside her, his large frame taking away some of her space and squeezing her against the side of the curtain he drew open and tied into place.

  He removed his hat, set it at his booted feet and then to her surprise, wrapped his arm around her shoulder and yanked her closer. “We will be more comfortable this way,” he murmured against her bonnet.

  She bit back a smile and nestled against his solid warmth. She couldn’t imagine riding about Hyde Park with her husband’s arm draped around her. It would be the scandal of the Season. She had to admit, she liked Venice based on this moment alone. It felt like she was finally free of all pretenses.

  The gondola slid out upon the Grand Canal and the lapping water filled the air. The cool wind pushed in through the open curtains, swinging the fringed, silken cords that held them open and feathering against their faces.

  She felt as if she were floating between the earth and sky as they began weaving around the other countless gondolas that cluttered the canal. She glanced up toward whitewashed, arched windows passing alongside them and then back down toward the thick, green water where the buildings were reflected in distorted ripples.

  Antonio bellowed out something in Italian as they veered around the corner of a building and into a narrower area. The buildings seemed to close around them. She could now see the water lapping against the stones, the movement displaying fresh and blackened seaweed and moss. Various wood doors with stone stoops set against the water drifted by, barely an arm’s length from where she sat with Remington. To think one could step from one’s home straight into water was as odd as it was charming.

  Between the beauty of the buildings, the water, the gondola and Remington’s warmth affectionately surrounding her, she felt a soft flame of happiness. A true happiness she had not felt in years. Everything seemed so…perfect.

  Eventually, the gondola veered toward the stone stoop of a towering, narrow brick façade. The gondola came to a halt. She sat up, glancing toward a bright-red doorway with a large iron knocker in the shape of a lion.

  Remington drew back his arm, snatched up his top hat and climbed out onto the stoop, causing the gondola to sway. His gloved hand reappeared before her. “We will see more at night. We visit Cornelia first.”

  Her heart soared at the thought of finally meeting his stepsister. She grabbed hold of his hand, gathered her skirts and stumbled out of the gondola onto the stone step. She straightened and cleared her throat, slipping her hand away from Remington’s.

  “Return when the moon is highest, Antonio!” Remington called out.

  “Sì, signore!” Antonio called back. With a graceful swing of his oar, he and his gondola floated away down the water pathway.

  Victoria glanced around. She and Remington now stood between deep, murky-green water and a building, with nowhere to go except through the closed red door before them.

  She eyed him. “I hope Cornelia is at home or we may have to swim.”

  Remington stepped toward the door and used the iron ring against the block located beneath the lion’s mouth. “’Tis early. As such, I know we are assured entrance.”

  Victoria settled nervously beside Remington and arranged her skirts about her. “What if Cornelia doesn’t approve of me?”

  “Then I will have to get myself a new wife.”

  She smacked his arm as the door edged open.

  A thin, gray-haired man, his face heavily aged by the sun, peered out at them. His dark eyes widened as he stepped out toward Remington. “Signore!”

  “Marcello.” Remington tapped his gloved finger against his lips. “Have Cornelia and Giovanni come down at once. Tell them nothing. Only that I have arrived and that it is extremely urgent.”

  The man nodded, tapping his own finger against his lips. He pulled the door open wider and waved them both inside.

  Remington ushered her into a large, open marble and gold-painted hallway that opened onto two enormous side rooms with soaring ceilings.

  The doors closed, darkening the foyer, leaving the scent of sea and wine noticeably hanging in the air. Several lit candles softly illuminated honey-colored silk-brocaded walls that decorated the expanse of the dim hallway.

  The butler held out his hands. “Signorina?”

  She turned toward the man. “Oh. Grazie.” She untied the gauze ribbons of her bonnet, removed it and handed it to him. She unclasped her velvet mantelet and removed her gloves and reticule, handing those to him, as well.

  Shuffling past, he gathered Remington’s hat and gloves. Setting everything onto a side table, and patting it into place, the old man trudged up the staircase with a swagger that a butler in London would have been tossed for.

  She fidgeted with her fingers and eyed the stairs. She had always wanted to meet Cornelia, though certainly not under such unannounced circumstances.

  Remington stepped toward her and yanked her back firmly toward him, wrapping his arms around her. His hold tightened. “She will adore you.”

  Victoria nodded awkwardly, her stomach in a knot. She felt as if he was about to put her on display.

  “Jonathan!” a female voice exclaimed. “Why ever are you back so soon? I thought surely…”

  Victoria’s gaze lifted toward a full-figured, curvaceous woman standing at the top of the staircase.

  Long, unbound chestnut hair lay in waves, framing a very pretty, round porcelain face. Cornelia adjusted the red sash around the waist of her clinging golden silk robe. She blinked down at them with inquisitive brown eyes, her arched brows coming together.

  “Say nothing,” Remington whispered into Victoria’s ear from behind, his breath heating her cheek. His arms tightened even more.

  Victoria melted against his solid frame. She couldn’t help but be enamored by how excited he was to share her with Cornelia. She brought her own hands up toward his forearms and squeezed them, assuring him she would remain quiet.

  Cornelia descended the staircase, her pearl-studded satin slippers peeking out from beneath her robe with each hurried step. She paused directly before them, her eyes widening. “Is this…?”

  Remington playfully rocked Victoria from side to side with his own body. “Yes,” he drawled. “This is Victoria. The new Lady Remington. She and I were married back in London.”

  A high-pitched screech escaped Cornelia as she clapped her hands and jumped up and down, causing all of her curls to bounce up and down along with her. “Oh, this is…marvelous! Absolutely marvelous! Oh, Jonathan. Why did you not write and tell us? You really should have…” She froze and clasped her robe together at the base of her exposed throat. “Fie. I am not even dressed to meet her.”

  Remington released Victoria and started pulling her back toward the door. “I suppose we should leave. Come along, Victoria. We will find ourselves a hotel.”

  Victoria giggled and scampered after him in an effort to play along. This reminded her of the Jonathan she had first met.

  “Jonathan!” Cornelia exclaimed, hurrying toward them. “That is not in the least
bit amusing. I will not have you and your new wife staying in a hotel. You will stay here with me and Giovanni. Oddio. You could not have arrived at a more harried time. Giovanni’s birthday is next week and though the brute resisted to the end, I’m hosting a masked ball in his honor. We will have to find you both something to wear and visit a mascarero at once. Only I—”

  Cornelia paused. She spread her arms out toward Victoria and smiled, her cheeks rounding. “Enough with my incessant talk. I wish for your affection, sister dearest. I deserve it after having endured years of Jonathan’s rantings.”

  Victoria hurried forward, oddly feeling as if she already knew this Cornelia. She pressed the woman’s lily-scented softness to herself and murmured against her shoulder, “Your brother has told me so much about you.”

  “Oh, has he now?” Cornelia pulled away and searched her face with bright brown eyes and flicked Victoria’s hair with an exploratory finger. “She really is beautiful, Jonathan. Corpo di baco. I do believe she will overturn every gondola in Venice.”

  Victoria let out a nervous laugh.

  Cornelia swept out a hand and rattled it. “Come. Whilst we wait for my husband to join us, I will show you my redecorated ballroom, which I intend to debut quite soon. Giovanni thinks it’s exceedingly pompous, but then, he has no taste whatsoever.”

  Cornelia grabbed her hand and hurried them both past Remington and through the open doors of the archway on their right. Cornelia released her and gestured toward the expanse of the room with a great sigh. “What do you think? Is it fashionable enough?”

  Victoria glanced around the large rectangular room, noting how on one side its large windows faced the canal and at the far, far end they faced a small cobbled courtyard. Why, the room was the expanse of the entire house!

  Her eyes widened as she slowly turned to get a better view. The room was simply furnished with an array of upholstered chairs and French clocks. The impressive length of the sweeping walls was painted a soft, pale green and bore dozens of oversize gilded mirrors and sconces that not only expanded the room, but allowed the light from the outside windows to brighten the space all the more.

  “’Tis beautiful,” Victoria breathed. “Stunning. Especially with the views of the canal and the courtyard.”

  Cornelia waved her hand about. “Yes, I think so, too.” She sighed heavily. “I must see what is taking Giovanni so long. The poor man would be late for his own funeral.” She spun around and hurried out of the ballroom, her robe floating around her as her slippers shuffled against the marble. Silence hummed.

  Victoria wistfully glanced around the ballroom again, wondering what it would be like to own something like it. Something she could call her own and use to enliven not only her life but the lives of others with dance and music. She headed back toward the entryway.

  Remington leaned against the open archway, setting his hands behind his back. He eyed the ballroom and then her as she approached. “What do you think of her?”

  “She is everything I expected and more.” Victoria settled herself against the archway opposite him, smiled and arranged her skirts.

  His blue eyes met hers across the short expanse between them. After a moment, he asked in a low tone, “And what do you think of Venice?”

  It was a question that she knew asked far more than the obvious. He was asking her if she could see herself staying. She drew in a shaky breath. “It is truly enchanting.”

  “We can make it our home. Raise our children here.”

  Children.

  Silence hung between them.

  “Remington!” a deep sweeping voice boasted from the top of the stairs. “Congratulazioni! You are now a man. A real man.”

  Startled, Victoria pushed away from the archway and turned toward the staircase. A distinguished-looking gentleman with thick, silver-streaked black hair descended the stairs. A red silk cravat hung loosely around his neck. And his shirt was scandalously open, exposing the intimate curve of his throat and the dark hairs of his chest. Fortunately, everything else, including his gray trousers, was properly affixed.

  Remington touched a hand to Victoria’s waist. “Victoria, this is Baron—”

  “No, no, no. We are famiglia. I insist she call me Giovanni.” The man held up a hand and paused at the bottom of the staircase. He smiled and eyed Victoria, then leaned against the iron banister, setting his collar up. “I hope you and Remington do not have any plans. ’Tis obvious mia Cornelia intends to take over your entire schedule whether it pleases you or not. She has already added you and Remington to the guest list for the party in honor of my being very old.” He wrapped his cravat around his collar and knotted it, the sapphire ring on his finger winking at her with each quick movement.

  Victoria smiled, fascinated by his unconventional approach to their conversation while he dressed in front of her. He was so worldly and charming. He seemed as if nothing could disrupt his good mood. “I am so pleased she did. I have never attended a masked ball before.”

  “Never?” Giovanni smoothed down the front of his cravat, crossed his arms over his chest and tsked. “If only Austria would reinstate Carnival. It would put our pathetic attempts to shame.”

  “There is no more Carnival? Since when?”

  Giovanni’s eyes widened as he huffed out, “Since the Earl of Hell known as Napoleon swept through Venezia, is when.” He rattled a hand about. “Merda! Do the British not inform their people of anything?”

  “Giovanni!” Cornelia scolded from atop the staircase. “We all know what you think of Napoleon, but please try to refrain from turning into him yourself. Cursing at our new sister-in-law? Whatever are you thinking?”

  Giovanni sheepishly eyed Victoria. “You must forgive this wild brute. I am still being tamed.”

  Victoria smiled. “There is no need to apologize.”

  Cornelia regally descended the stairs and alighted beside them. “Later this week, you must grant me an entire day with Victoria in the city. There is so much I wish to show her. Things I know Jonathan will not, as they involve shopping. You and Jonathan can tend to the children that day if the governess finds herself overwhelmed.”

  Giovanni snorted and wagged a finger at Cornelia. “No, no, no. Remington and Giovanni will take to the city, whilst you will both tend to our beautiful bambinos. That is how it is done. You British have it all wrong, as always. Must I forever teach you everything?”

  Cornelia snorted in turn and pushed his hand away. “I do beg your pardon, Napoleon, but you and Jonathan have already seen Venezia. I wish to show her the city before Jonathan sweeps her out into the plains and I never see them again.”

  Giovanni dropped his hand to his side and huffed out a breath. “Whatever my Cornelia wants, is what my Cornelia gets.”

  Cornelia leaned in and nuzzled his cheek with the tip of her nose. “Do not ever forget it.”

  Giovanni grunted.

  They really were adorable.

  Victoria leaned toward them, entranced by the way they interacted with each other. “I understand you two have three children? When will I meet them?”

  “You will have to meet them right now.” Cornelia reached out, grasped her arm and guided her around Giovanni. “And yes. We have three. Jonathan, Marta and Aniela. Come, come. They are all in the nursery and ought to be up by now.”

  Cornelia hurried them up the stairs, giving Victoria only a moment to glance back down toward Remington.

  Remington grinned, then cupped the side of his mouth and yelled, “I forgot to mention that she will exhaust you to no end and will never allow you to say no to anything.”

  Victoria giggled. She stumbled on the last step as Cornelia tugged her onward. Gathering her skirts from around her feet in an effort to keep up, Victoria darted down the corridor after Cornelia. She had almost forgotten how truly wonderful it was to have a family. A real family of her own. It was something she hadn’t been a part of in a very long, long time.

  SCANDAL FIFTEEN

  A lady’s rep
utation will only fall apart if she lets it fall apart. She must therefore guard her name and her virtue with her very life, because sometimes abiding by all the rules is not enough. Sometimes, a lady will find there are unscrupulous men who seek to not only break the rules, but the very women who are trying to uphold them.

  How To Avoid a Scandal, Author Unknown

  Five days later

  Venice, early afternoon

  CORNELIA’S THREE adorable children with their pudgy faces, playful dark eyes, rosy cheeks and curling hair ranging from hues of chestnut to black haunted Victoria for days. Seeing Remington fawn over his nieces and nephew with words, silly faces and laughter made her ache for children in a way she had never thought possible.

  Of course, to entertain such a thought would mean staying with Remington forever. Though she and Remington had shared a bed these past five nights, the only thing they had shared in that bed was a flutter of endless words that eventually exhausted them both.

  As each day passed, she knew it was inevitable. Them. This. With each day, the excitement and the beauty that possessed everything and everyone around her made her realize life really could be perfect. One simply had to fight to make it perfect. And she had decided that come tonight, when she settled into bed alongside Remington, she would astound him by submitting to him completely. Her heart. Everything.

  “The next shop is by far the most divine,” Cornelia insisted, patting Victoria’s knee with a gloved hand, stirring Victoria from her daze. “London has nothing like it.”

  Victoria grinned. She couldn’t wait to see what Cornelia had planned. They had already spent most of the day floating about from stoop to stoop throughout Venice, stopping their gondolier whenever something was of interest, and exploring endless shops for glass beads, gloves, ribbon-and-lace bonnets, slippers and flowers. There really wasn’t much room left in the gondola to hold another parcel.

  Their gondola came to a bobbing halt beside a narrow stoop that only held one other waiting gondola. A black door with a brass dolphin knocker loomed before them. A long row of large glass-paned windows was draped with lush, red velvet that had various colored porcelain masks attached for display.