A Scandal In the Making

by Bethany M. Sefchick

  For his part, Evan never approached her more than once or twice a day, as he was usually busy with estate affairs, sending messengers back and forth to London to carry out his orders for Berkshire now that he was well and truly the marquess. But when he did catch her alone, he always took full advantage of the opportunity, whispering slightly naughty suggestions in her ear and making certain to touch her as much as possible without crossing some imaginary line that only he could see.

  They also dined together each night, discussing their day over dinner. Evan's day usually involved a great deal of business, which, surprisingly, he did not seem to mind sharing with her. The previous marquess had believed women good for little more than bedding and looking pretty, but Evan seemed to understand that Cassandra had a brain and could use it even though she did not have the extensive formal education he did. It was a rather delightful experience - especially when they discussed the Gray Ladies and how Cassandra might run the organization when they returned to Town.

  After dinner, they usually retired to one of Brambly's many drawing rooms for drinks and occasionally some card games or reading. Even then, however, Evan made it a point to touch her at least once or twice, even if the contact was merely a casual brush of the fingers. He never pressed her or demanded more than she felt ready to give. However, he did make it a point to let her know that he was there waiting, and that soon, the time was coming when he would bed her - a prospect that she was becoming more and more excited about as of late. In fact, she would almost say that she was anticipating the event.

  For Cassandra, having a man touch her at all was a new experience. Though her father had loved her, he had not been a demonstrative man and he had only hugged her once as far as she could recall. Even her extended family was not into touching and as for Aunt Ellie? Well, looking back, Cassandra realized that her beloved aunt only touched her when she desired something from Cassandra - usually something having to do with her teasing and enticing a man that Ellie herself desired.

  How many times had Cassandra herself danced with men that Aunt Ellie had actually been hoping to bed? Cassandra had wondered that often over the last few days and had yet to reach a satisfactory answer. Likely quite a few, she had eventually concluded, for she was always being shoved in the general direction of Lord Candlewood, and Aunt Ellie's sordid history with the handsome duke was well known. However, there had been others, men of lesser social standing that had gone largely unnoticed by Society at large. After all, who cared if Cassandra Grove, a poor Berkshire relation, was gifted a dance by some equally unremarkable gentleman? No one - save for Aunt Ellie who usually appeared to "rescue" Cassandra from the man in question and often times whisked him off and well away from her niece.

  Whisked away by Ellie tucking her arm into his and moving away from the crowds and into more secluded areas, all the while whispering in the man's ear. Whisked away and not seen again until much later, sometimes even an hour or more. And then looking decidedly rumpled.

  At the time, Cassandra hadn't given her aunt's actions much thought, but then, she knew little of touching and, thanks to Aunt Mimsy, had been secretly frightened of men. After a scant week of Evan's caresses, however, Cassandra now knew that her Aunt Ellie had likely bedded more men than just Lord Candlewood. Her lovers were probably legion - and Cassandra had been the polite veneer used to hide the awful truth.

  It was not a very pleasant realization and once more, Cassandra wondered what her life would have been like had the previous marquess - or even her Aunt Ellie - had lived. But both had passed on and Evan was the marquess now. He was also Cassandra's husband and suddenly, the depth of a single touch had far more meaning than it ever had before.

  She was, in fact, mulling over the subject of Evan's caresses as she brushed Marigold when the man in question appeared as if by magic.

  "Pleasant ride this morning?" he asked as he sauntered into the stables, looking so delightful that it was all Cassandra could do to keep her hands off of him.

  "Muddy and damp," she replied crisply, attempting to tamp down her rising desire. "It seems as if it has done nothing but rain since we arrived." She gestured to the far door that led out into the exercise area. "The horses are going mad, I think, with the lack of exercise. I offered to brush Marigold while Willis takes Firebird out for a well-needed stretch."

  Firebird was Cassandra's other mare, a peace offering from Evan the previous spring when he had accused her of attempting to trap him into marriage during one particularly contentious argument. She could no longer remember what had sparked the argument in the first place, though it was likely over something trivial, but Firebird remained, a gift from a man who had a deeper heart than he would ever likely allow anyone to see.

  "Almost finished then?" he asked, leaning casually against one of the stall doors. His posture was relaxed but she could see the tenseness of his muscles and the gleam in his eyes as if he was planning something. Knowing Evan as she did, he likely was.

  A year ago, she would have been suspicious of just about anything he did or said, but now she trusted him implicitly. They were friends first and now they were more. Perhaps love would come in time, but she was prepared for the possibility that it never would. Still, they were no longer constantly at each other's throats and that was a vast improvement.

  "Actually, I am." She gave the horse a few more loving strokes before returning the brush to its proper place and latching the stall behind her. "We rode out to the old abbey and back. I had hoped to explore the building further, but that will have to wait, I'm afraid. The weather simply will not cooperate. I've no wish to be drenched to the bone. I had enough of that misery yesterday when I was caught out by the dowager's house."

  To Cassandra's amazement, Evan graced her with a sexy, sensual grin, the sort that she had seen him reserve for women that he wished to bed. "Ah, but a rainy afternoon is not necessarily a bad thing, pet. There are plenty of ways that we can keep ourselves...occupied."

  There could be no question what he was referring to at that moment. He was ready to bed her and, surprisingly enough, she was ready to be taken. Well, not here and now among the horses, but the idea of lying with Evan no longer frightened her as it had only a sennight before.

  Over the course of the last week, she had become accustomed to his touch. She now understood that the passion that had fueled their anger earlier in their relationship could fuel their mating and lovemaking as well. She was still a little uncertain of the act itself but, after a week of kisses, caresses, and touches, she was ready to be bedded. Or at least she thought that she was.

  "What do you have in mind, Evan?" she asked, leaning back against the stall, making certain to cross her arms over her breasts so that she might draw his attention there. It wasn't that she wanted to tease him, but she did like the surge of power through her veins when she saw his eyes widen with desire when he looked at her. It made her feel alive, not to mention more than a little womanly. And sensual.

  The first time she had noticed Evan's reaction to her body, she had been shocked and simply decided that he was reacting that way only because it had been so long since he had enjoyed a woman in his bed. However, when a rather bold and impertinent maid had essentially offered to be Evan's consort when he tired of his new wife, making certain that her rather voluptuous body was on fully display to him, Cassandra noticed that he didn't react in the way she had expected. Or rather, his body did not react. There was no hardening of his cock at the maid's rather explicit offer, nor did his breathing quicken or his fingers clench and unclench as if stopping himself from reaching for something - or someone.

  Yet whenever he touched Cassandra, all of those things happened and more. His breath quickened and he seemed to be unable to resist touching her. In fact, the other day, she was certain that he meant to tumble her in the butler's pantry and only just barely restrained himself. All of which spoke to a desire for her that he could no longer hide, and that was beyond thrilling. Which lead her to one inescapable con
clusion - Evan desired her enough to want to bed her - now. Her. Little Cassandra Grove, an unremarkable woman who had never been able to hold the attention of a man in the shadow of her far more beautiful aunt.

  Now, Evan's eyes were fastened on her breasts once more, and Cassandra felt her blood beginning to heat. Maybe she was wrong and this was all a game to him. After all, he had said that he would seduce her before he bedded her. Perhaps this was all part of his plan and he actually felt nothing for her. Or perhaps all men reacted like this when they had gone without a woman for so long. Perhaps then, whatever woman happened to be handy could bring a man to this level of arousal. Still, Cassandra preferred to believe that she was different.

  If that meant she lived in a fantasy world where her new husband was concerned, then so be it. After all, this was a business arrangement and soon enough, she would lose Evan's attentions. For no matter how he acted towards her now, Cassandra was not stupid and she knew that in time, a mistress would replace her in Evan's affections. He didn't love her, nor had he ever claimed to, though she knew there were some mistresses in his past he had cared for deeply. One or two he might have even loved, at least a little. But they were mistresses and he could not marry them, much as he might have wished to do so.

  Still, those women were where Evan's true affections lie and she would not fool herself otherwise. But for the moment, he was hers and he seemed to desire her well enough. Especially given the hungry look in his eyes right now as he all but salivated over her breasts.

  "I want to see you, Cassie." Evan's voice was soft as rain continued to patter on the stable roof, the sounds of the men working the horses in the yard muted and dull, as if they were all so very far away. "All of you. Now. In the dusky light of afternoon, when the world is soft and gray and the edges blurred just a bit. That is how I want our first time together to be. Not by the romantic flicker of firelight in the deep of night, for that is not us." He looked to the ceiling. "This rain, however? This foggy shroud of darkness that speaks to mysteries yet to be uncovered? That is us and that is how I want to first see that glorious body of yours naked for my pleasure."

  That was likely the most romantic thing Evan had ever said to her. It was also likely a lot of bunk because Evan was not a man given to expressing his feelings in such a flowery and effusive way. Nor did he even have those sorts of feelings for her when it came right down to the heart of the matter. However, he probably thought it was what she wanted to hear and in a way he was right. Despite the fact that this was not a love match, she wanted those pretty words from her husband, no matter how false they might be on his lips.

  "Yes, Evan." Cassandra's words were breathy. She did not mean them to be but they were. "I want you, too, and I am ready." Her stomach clenched again, but this time, she pushed down her fears. It was time. The man had waited long enough. And really, she was ready.

  He jerked his head in the direction of the manor house. "Then go, Cassie. Bathe and ready yourself and whatever else you need do. I shall come to you soon. And I shall make certain that we are not disturbed for a good long time."

  There was a hitch of something in his voice and though she knew it was not real or true emotion, that hesitation wedged its way into Cassandra's heart just the same. He was trying. She could ask for nothing more.

  "As you like, Evan." Her knees were unsteady as she pushed away from the stall door, but somehow she kept her feet. The last thing she wanted to do was appear weak in front of him now. He was looking at her with soft eyes, some deeper emotion she could not decipher shimmering in their gray depths that matched the sky outside. "I shall see you soon and I will hold you to your promise."

  Walking away, Cassandra could feel his gaze very nearly burning her back, but she did not turn around. Somehow, she knew his gaze was trained on the sway of her hips and she gloried in the realization that he was likely even more aroused than he had been before just from that simple motion.

  Aunt Mimsy was wrong, Cassandra decided as she walked out in the gray, damp afternoon and into the sheets of rain that quickly soaked her to her skin once more. Sexual desire was not something to fear. Rather, it was something to revel in. Especially when it gave a woman far more power over a man than she could have ever imagined.

  Lord, she is magnificent. And she is all mine.

  Evan watched Cassandra as she sashayed out of the stables as if she was a born courtesan. She likely did not fully realize how the simple way she walked affected him, but he supposed that would come in time. His Cassie was not a stupid woman and though she might not yet realize the power she possessed over the male of the species simply by being what she was and moving as she naturally did, she would learn in time.

  Whether or not she would still be by his side when she did finally come to understand the true power of her sexuality was another matter entirely. However, given that Evan had not yet taken Cassandra even once, that day was a long way from now. But it would come and when it did? Well, Evan did not wish to think about the consequences.

  In fact, Evan did not wish to imagine Cassandra with another man. Ever. She was his wife. She belonged to him and no other. In fact, he would go so far to say that no other man deserved her, though the truth of the matter was, Evan knew that he did not really deserve her either. In fact, he doubted that there was a man alive who did.

  That thought disturbed him more than he wished to admit, and his impulse was to chase after Cassandra right that instant, sweep her away to his chambers and bed her immediately so that they could be done with this madness. However, he could not and would not be so crass. Or so heartless. So instead, he took a long moment to will his randy cock into submission so that he could walk without being so obvious in his arousal.

  Not that it was an easy task.

  After all, as of late, simply being in Cassandra's presence made him hard and found him aching with longing. Whether they were touring the renovations to the estate's extensive conservatory and orangery, or simply reading by firelight in the evenings, each time he was in her presence, he felt the need to simply touch her. Actually, he longed to do more than touch, becoming bolder as the days passed, moving from kisses to caresses that left them both breathless and desiring more. And each night, he retired to his chambers with his body aching for satisfaction.

  And each day was worse than the next, his desire for her increasing the more he resisted the urge to claim her - as he had almost done last night when she had looked up from across the whist table and smiled at him in a way she had never done before. That smile had reached her eyes and lit up her face, giving her a breathtaking beauty that no other woman could match. For in that moment, Cassandra was happy. She was safe and secure and content. All because of Evan. And rake that he was, he wanted to seize that moment and take her, bed her, lose himself inside of her and find the release he desperately sought.

  However, she was not ready and he knew it simply from the look in her eyes. So he had kept his hands to himself and, when the time came, bid her a proper goodnight, though he had been unable to resist kissing her again, a tongue-tangling affair that left them both breathless and him with a cock so hard that it throbbed well into the deep of the night.

  This morning he had arisen with the best of intentions, hoping to go out with his land steward to some of the far acres of Brambly and see what could be done about improving the drainage in the less profitable fields, as well as perhaps discuss improvements to the tenants' cottages. Except that the rain had made the trip if not impossible then certainly uncomfortable.

  So instead he had gone to the stables thinking that he might assist Willis in exercising the horses only to see Cassandra thundering across the courtyard atop Marigold like some warrior queen, the rain plastering her riding habit to her body and making every man within her line of vision stop and stare. Even Old Harold, the ancient and half-blind gardener that Evan had never quite been able to bring himself to let go had paused in his duties as Cassandra had flown past, her auburn tresses pulled free from
her hat and streaming behind her as she flew on her horse's back like an avenging angel.

  It was that sight of her - wet, curvaceous, and utterly, most improbably delectable - that had finally snapped his resolve. So Evan had waited until he could walk again and then he meandered into the stables to seek out his wife, hoping and praying that she did not know how thoroughly and completely she had aroused him to almost painful proportions.

  If the expression on her face was any indication, she hadn't known, which, for the moment anyway, gave him the upper hand in their relationship - likely one of the last times he would be in such a position if his physical reaction to her was any indication of their future. And so he had made his proposition, for once speaking from his heart. As a rule, Evan did not reveal his heart to anyone. In fact, it was best that people believe he did not even possess one. But he did. And seeing Cassandra standing there, dripping wet and looking for all the world like she would welcome his advances, he had spoken some of the truest words he had ever uttered to her.

  She didn't believe them, of course, and that was fine. It was best for them both if she didn't. But he had meant them. He truly had. And soon, he would show her with his body all of the rest of the words he could not say. For while this was not love, this was...connection, for lack of a better word. It was the first real connection he had ever felt for a woman and it worried him more than a little that she held sway over him so easily.

  However, he was not worried enough about those pesky emotions to even consider not bedding her. No, this afternoon as the world rested around them, Evan would have his wife - beside him, beneath him, his body inside of hers until he came inside of her and claimed her as his own. It was his right as her husband and, by God, he would finally claim what was his.

  Chapter Ten