They looked at each for a moment—a moment too long, for Lady Rosa’s brows rose.
“Susanna, do escort me to the dessert table,” Lady Rosa said. “I am suddenly quite famished. Enjoy your afternoon, my lord.”
Wearing an apologetic look, Susanna was led away.
Julian watched the gaze exchanged between the two sisters and withheld his amusement. Susanna thought she was leaving Rebecca with the devil himself—and who could blame her, after their evening together?
But Rebecca…he did not quite understand her mood. Last night, she’d been bold, in command, even fearless, though three men held her and her relatives practically captive. Today she was a subdued lady of the ton, patiently allowing her mother the lead, as any daughter who expected to be led to the altar would.
“Lady Rosa did that quite neatly,” Julian remarked.
“She has had much practice,” Rebecca said dryly.
“Then I suggest we reward her.” He held out his arm. “Would you care to walk?”
She eyed him, her eyes faintly devilish, her lips curved in a lovely smile. Then she placed her hand lightly on his arm. “I imagine I cannot come to harm in a conservatory.”
“You could always scream,” he countered.
“And find myself married before the week is out? I think not.”
“Ah, you are crushing my self-esteem. Would not many young ladies wish to be married to an earl?”
“Perhaps not many, for you are not married.”
“By choice. And neither are you.”
“Stating the obvious, my lord.”
They walked quietly for several minutes, weaving their way out of sight of the other guests, although the murmur of voices never quite went away. At the rear of the conservatory, the glass separated them from the walled garden outside. They paused as if to admire it, but Julian knew she must not be thinking of the view.
He was thinking of his view…of her. Her lovely rose-colored gown hugged her torso, revealing herself to be shaped much as she’d been painted. She was slender but not fragile, small, yet rounded. Her hair was styled artfully, curled, with carefully placed ribbons. Her bodice was high enough that he found himself wondering if she hid the Scandalous Lady beneath her garments.
Patience, he reminded himself. He’d spent the morning speaking with people about her family. Though he’d heard of several of the family scandals, the Lelands and the Cabots certainly did not seem like thieves. And Rebecca was far too young to have stolen the diamond herself almost ten years before. So how had she come by it?
He’d realized during the long night that the best way to discover answers to his questions was to earn her trust. He had diligently tried to be unassuming at the luncheon, wanting her to believe that his intensity of the previous evening was more about his overindulgence. And to some degree, that was true. He shouldn’t have intimidated her, standing too close, looking so menacing, which was always rather easy for him to do.
She didn’t seem intimidated. She inhaled the scents of the flowers all around them, then exhaled almost on a sigh—but not a sigh of resignation. There was something very…unusual about her nonplussed reaction to the wager.
But then again, only an unusual woman would pose for a nude portrait. He wondered how unfettered her morals truly were.
And that aroused him far too much, he realized. He could not let himself dwell on her nudity, her lack of inhibitions. He had to focus on the Scandalous Lady, and bringing it back to its rightful owner—him.
He began the hunt for information. “You and Miss Leland seem close to your cousin Lady Elizabeth.”
She eyed him, a smile touching her full lips. “We are of an age, and we were raised together at Madingley Court.”
“Your families all lived together?”
“Have you seen Madingley Court?” she asked, amused.
He nodded. “Ah, I see. The palace of a duke, of course. So you were not too crowded living together.”
“Not at all,” she answered, searching his face with the faintest confusion.
He knew she wondered at his motives, why he didn’t bring up the wager. And his talk of crowded living conditions revealed too much of his own childhood issues.
“So the three of you were like sisters,” he said.
“We still are,” she answered, her voice firm. “We support each other through anything.”
“Obviously,” he said. “They risked much for you with their declaration last night.”
“We would risk anything for each other.”
“You’d risk exposure and humiliation?”
He thought she’d drop her hand from his arm, but she didn’t, only looked up at him coolly.
“Are you threatening such a thing?” she asked. “I would have thought you a gentleman.”
“I am a gentleman, Miss Leland. But that painting does not make a gentleman remember the civilized part of his brain.”
He felt her stiffen.
“But then you knew that would happen when you posed,” he continued mildly. “Or did you not think beyond a momentary thrill? Why would you do such a thing?”
“Are you lecturing me, my lord? A true gentleman would protect a lady’s sensibilities, would forget the things he’d seen.”
“You have not displayed a lady’s sensibilities, have you?”
She dropped her hand and faced him now, speaking in a low voice, her hazel eyes flashing. “Now you’re offending me. You know nothing about me.”
“I would like to.”
“No, you wouldn’t. You want to win a wager with your silly friends.”
“Which you and your silly female relatives made possible by your behavior last night.”
“How disapproving you sound, my lord.”
“No, I am simply stating a fact. Your guilt makes you believe that everyone is censorious.”
“Guilt?” she cried, then looked down the path and lowered her voice. “I feel no guilt whatsoever.”
“Then why else would you attempt to steal the painting?”
“For the simple reason that it was supposed to be in France, not here where people who know me will see it.”
“Then why pose, Miss Leland? Why risk it?”
She paused, and in her mercurial eyes, he could see her weighing what to reveal. He waited almost impatiently—and he was never an impatient man. Then to his surprise, she stepped closer. He could feel the heat from her body, imagined how it would feel with just another step, as she pressed against him. His logical brain threatened to shut down, and that had never happened to him.
“Did you ever just want to be adventurous, my lord?” she asked softly.
IN PURSUIT OF A SCANDALOUS LADY
by Gayle Callen
On sale now from Avon Books
About the Authors
CATHERINE ANDERSON, the award-winning author of both contemporary and historical fiction, lives with her husband and three canine friends—a mixed spaniel named Kibbles and two Rottweilers named Sam and Sassy, who seem to think they are teacup poodles and that obedience training is for people.
LORETTA CHASE holds a B.A. from Clark University, where she majored in English and minored unofficially in visual art. Her past lives include clerical, administrative, and part-time teaching at Clark and a Dickensian six-month experience as a meter maid. In the course of moonlighting as a corporate video scriptwriter, she fell under the spell of a producer who lured her into writing novels…and marrying him. The union has resulted in more than a dozen books and a number of awards, including the Romance Writers of America’s Rita® Award. You can talk to Loretta via her email address [email protected], visit her website at www.LorettaChase.com, and blog with her and six other authors at WordWenches.com.
It was SAMANTHA JAMES’s love of reading as a child that steered her toward a writing career. Among her favorites in those days were the Trixie Belden and Cherry Ames series of books. She still loves a blend of mystery and romance, and, of course, a happily-ever-after e
nding. The award-wining, bestselling author of eighteen romances and one novella, her books have ranged from medieval to Regency to the American West. Please visit her on the web at www.samanthajames.com.
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.
More Dazzling Romance from
Catherine Anderson
CHERISH
Lorretta Chase
DON’T TEMPT ME
Samantha James
SINS OF THE VISCOUNT SUTHERLAND
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are drawn from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
THREE TIMES A BRIDE. Copyright © 2010 by Avon Books. “Fancy Free” copyright © 1995 by Adeline Catherine Anderson. “The Mad Earl’s Bride” copyright © 1995 by Loretta Chekani. “Scandal’s Bride” copyright © 1996 by Sandra Kleinschmidt. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
First Avon Books paperback printing: May 2010
EPub Edition © April 2010 ISBN: 978-0-06-201175-6
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
About the Publisher
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* See Lord of Scoundrels by Loretta Chase, published by Avon Books.
Table of Contents
Fancy Free
In Pursuit of a Scandalous Lady
About the Authors
Other Romances
Copyright
About the Publisher
More Dazzling Romance from
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Fancy Free (Three Times a Bride Anthology) Page 12