A Scandalous Proposition

by Wendy Soliman

  “My brother’s new wife is making things difficult for everyone.”

  “But especially you.”

  Adam raised a brow. “What makes you say that?”

  Florentina smiled. “I’ve observed the manner in which she looks at you.”

  He sighed. “She wants me to resign my commission and manage the estate instead.”

  “Only the estate?”

  “Well, she has other ambitions in respect of our previous friendship too.”

  “But she can’t ask that of you!” Florentina sat up, plump breasts bouncing straight into his hands.

  “She feels differently.” Adam idly circled an aureole with his forefinger. “The difficulty is that James trusts her completely. If I don’t do as she wishes, she’ll poison his mind against me and I’ll no longer be welcome at the Court.”

  Florentina gasped. “I didn’t think she was quite as wicked as that.”

  “She’s very determined.”

  “Yes, but surely you can reason with the duke. Tell him—”

  “James and I have never been close.”

  “Yes, your mother implied as much.”

  “And impending fatherhood has caused him to place Philippa on a pedestal. She can do no wrong in his eyes.”

  “But you’re not persuaded that the child she’s carrying is your brother’s progeny?”

  He looked at her sharply. “What makes you suppose that?”

  “I didn’t mean to speak out of turn. It’s just something I inferred from a remark Christine made. She certainly didn’t betray anything you might have confided in her.”

  “Since you’ve guessed, I suppose there’s no harm in your knowing that I have grave doubts about my brother’s ability to father any child.”

  “It’s iniquitous, the way she’s attempting to deceive and manipulate you all. What shall you do about it?”

  “What can I do?”

  “Who do you suppose did father her child, if not the duke?”

  “From what I’ve heard, it could be any one of a number of unsavoury characters. Lord King is the prime contender.”

  “Lord King!”

  The extent of Florentina’s agitation surprised him. “Yes, you had the questionable pleasure of meeting him the other evening.”

  She shuddered. “I’m unlikely to forget.”

  “Did he do or say something to overset you, Florentina?” He looked at her closely but she appeared to find something to engage her interest on the opposite side of the room and wouldn’t meet his gaze. He tilted her chin until she was obliged to do so. “Tell me if he did and I will put the matter to rights immediately.”

  “No, it was nothing like that. I simply didn’t care for his manner. He’s far too full of self-importance for my taste.” She shook her head and then frowned. “But how will you go about proving your suspicions that Lord King took advantage of the duchess?”

  Adam made a moue of distaste. “If even half of what I’ve heard is true, then he didn’t need to take advantage of her. After I left England, by all accounts she joined her brother in some of the less salubrious haunts he favours and actually attended one of King’s masquerades. Any female gracing such an event knows exactly what to expect. She can be there for one reason and one reason only.”

  “I see.”

  “I apologize, Florentina. This isn’t the sort of discussion fit for a lady’s ears.”

  She giggled. “After what we’ve just done, I’m hardly a lady.”

  “You are a lady down to your fingertips, my love.” He kissed the fingertips in question to emphasize his point. “Even if you are also argumentative, disobedient and stubborn.”

  “Only if I don’t get my way,” she told him with a sweet smile.

  “Be careful! You have yet to see what I’m capable of when I don’t get my way.”

  “But I’ve already given you your way, my lord. Twice, if memory serves.”

  “Ah, then you’ve hit upon my difficulty. I have an appalling memory and don’t recall any such thing.”

  “I would say it’s more a case of having a selective memory.”

  “Since my mind’s a blank, I shall have to take your word for it.”

  “If the duchess was at that masquerade,” she said, “surely that’s all the proof you require.”

  “No, she’ll simply deny it and James will take her part. He seems determined to believe that the child is his.”

  “And if it’s a boy, King might well have fathered the next duke.” She reached up to trace the line of his lips. “Poor, Adam, what torture this must be for you.”

  “There, now you know all my secrets. It’s your turn.”

  “I have no secrets.” Her finger ran the length of the scar on his chest. “What happened?”

  “Don’t change the subject.”

  “But I wish to know.”

  He sighed. “A French bayonet.”

  “Oh, then perhaps the name I suggested for your personal weapon—”

  “Is fine. Unlike my unfortunate foe, I’m very good at attacking with mine.”

  “Humph, and modest too.”

  “Are you suggesting I have something to be modest about?”

  She slapped his shoulder. “Stop fishing for compliments and tell me where you were when this happened.”

  Adam suppressed his frustration. Naturally, she was interested in anything to do with the accursed war, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was also turning the conversation away from her own problems. “You never give up, do you?”

  “Not if there’s something I wish to know.”

  “Very well. We were in Salamanca. Moore thought the Spanish defeated and planned to retreat. We were ambushed by a raiding party.” He shrugged. “I was one of the fortunate ones that day and came away with just this scratch.”

  She deposited a line of gentle kisses along the path of the scar. The touch of her lips was softer than a butterfly’s wing, sending shivers of expectation through his body. “Your mother doesn’t know?”

  “No, and I’d prefer it to remain that way.”

  Florentina giggled. “I could hardly tell her.”

  “True.”

  “You and I must have been in the same location at the same time,” she said thoughtfully. “I was in a small village not far from Salamanca when Moore was planning his retreat. I had to link up with some of our people in that village to gain information about locals suspected of passing information to the French.”

  “I thought you said you were never in danger areas.”

  She nodded at his scar. “Compared to you, I wasn’t. Just a few inches to the right,” she said softly, “and you and I wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

  Her deeply sympathetic expression, the smouldering luminescence in her eyes, caused Adam to abandon his halfhearted attempts at restraint. Just looking at her, sitting naked on his lap and nibbling abstractedly at her index finger, was enough to arouse him to the point where he could no longer think straight. With a smothered oath, he captured her lips in a searing kiss of deep intensity, his swirling tongue conducting lightning forays into her mouth as he ruthlessly branded her as his own.

  “Florentina,” he said huskily, releasing her. “I think it only fair to warn you that if you insist upon looking at me with such compassion in your eyes, I won’t be responsible for the consequences.”

  She giggled and then blushed. “Perhaps I enjoy the consequences.”

  He growled at her. “Be careful what you wish for, wench!”

  “Surely there must be a way to make King admit what he did,” she said, somewhat breathlessly. “I should have thought he wouldn’t be able to resist boasting about it.”

  “He enjoys the secret power he now wields over us too much to risk doing anything foolhardy. He also now has access to the Court, thanks to Philippa. He was never welcome here before, you see. And worse, if I’m banished because I don’t do what Philippa requires of me, my mother will be left unprotected and exposed
to the likes of King.” He frowned. “I can’t allow that to happen. There has to be another way.”

  Florentina glanced out the window and cried out in alarm. The darkness was giving way to the misty grey light of dawn.

  “I must go!”

  “Not yet.” He pulled her back toward him. “I want you again first.”

  “Adam, we can’t. There’s not enough time.”

  “There’s always time.”

  And he set about proving it.

  By the time he escorted her back to the dower house, it was almost completely light. Only after he’d seen her disappear inside did he realise that not only had she not opened up to him, as he’d hoped, but she’d also failed to give her word that she wouldn’t do anything rash in respect of Dawson.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Florentina was daydreaming about Adam the next afternoon as she drove back to the dower house, having attended to the refugees. Once again Lord King blocked her path. She gulped back her fear, drew rein and waited for him to address her. The wait was a short one.

  “Mrs. Grantley.” He removed his hat and sketched an elegant bow from atop his horse. Florentina made no response. “I come to enquire what decision you’ve made about my little entertainment?”

  “You already have my answer.” She inverted her chin. “I don’t wish to go anywhere near it.”

  “Don’t be so hasty, my dear. Are you not just a little curious? Don’t you wonder what excesses occur when respectable people are given the freedom to do whatever they wish?” His eyes roved over her body as he smacked his lips together in greedy anticipation. “It can be highly diverting, and I can assure you that you won’t be disappointed.”

  “I certainly won’t since I shall not be there.”

  He seemed agitated by her determination not to be intimidated. “Don’t be such a fool! I can be an advantageous ally but a very dangerous enemy. If you don’t oblige me I shall have to inform the dowager duchess of your connection to Chamberleigh.” He sighed. “There’s nothing else for it, I’m afraid.”

  “She would never believe you.” But Florentina could tell from his implacable expression that he wouldn’t be deterred from making good his threat if she refused to obliged him.

  “I’ll send a carriage for you.”

  He’d moved his horse closer, leaving the road ahead clear.

  “Then your coachman will have a wasted journey,” she said, slapping the reins on her horse’s rump and surprising him into a trot. “Good afternoon, my lord.”

  Still shaking from the encounter, aware that with his superior horse King could overtake her at any time, she encouraged her cob into a canter. She was trembling so badly that she almost lost her balance. Lord King’s mocking voice echoed inside her head, drowning out the sound of her horse’s pounding hooves. King could destroy everything she’d risked her all to achieve, and there was only one way she could prevent him from doing so.

  But the very idea was repellent.

  The next few days passed in a flurry of activity. Calls that the dowager duchess would once have made alone now couldn’t be contemplated unless Florentina was at her side. These engagements prevented her from seeing anything of Adam. But whenever she managed to grasp a few moments of solitude, she closely examined the passionate nature of her feelings toward him. They overcame her to the extent that she forgot about everything except the touch of his hands on her sensitized body as he brought it ruthlessly to life.

  An all-encompassing need to repeat the experience gripped her but she ruthlessly suppressed it. Adam already had the vile Philippa pursuing him relentlessly. Added to that was his determination to put Dawson out of business and his much greater concerns about the future of the duchy. He didn’t need her increasing his burden by making brazen demands that would only embarrass them both. Their sojourn together had clearly been nothing more than an opportunistic diversion from his perspective. If it had been otherwise, he would have found a reason to call at the dower house before now. Damaged pride notwithstanding, she’d try to think about the interlude in a similar fashion and relegate it to the back of her mind.

  “Florentina, what’s your opinion?”

  Florentina dragged her mind back to the present. She was seated in the drawing room at the dower house with the dowager duchess and Lady Madison, indulging in a glass of hot chocolate her sweet tooth often craved, accompanied by churros—the sweet doughnut delicacy so favoured by her countrymen, prepared especially for her by the dowager’s cook. “Oh, I beg your pardon, ma’am, I didn’t quite hear you.”

  The dowager smiled at her. “Lady Madison has heard of a young Spanish girl in urgent need of a position. What say you? Shall we create one for her in our kitchen here?”

  Florentina hesitated not at all. “Oh, that would be wonderful if we could. But do we need more help? Would it not be a waste?”

  “There’s always room for one more. Besides, if the girl can cook then she can help Mrs. Cowley with the Spanish dishes you so enjoy and that I’m starting to get a taste for myself.”

  Florentina smiled at the dowager. “Thank you, ma’am. It would be wonderful to have someone on hand to speak Spanish with.”

  “That’s settled then. Now then, Lady Madison, I believe you and I are both expected at Mrs. Crowther’s this evening.”

  “Yes.” Lady Madison wrinkled her nose. “I believe it’s to be a musical evening.”

  “Then you are fortunate to be excluded, Florentina,” the dowager said, “and will doubtless spend a much more agreeable evening here alone.”

  “I so agree,” Lady Madison said, sighing. “But needs must, I suppose.”

  Florentina fell back into a reverie, allowing the conversation to flow around her. She recognized Adam’s hand behind this stratagem, aware that he’d passed much of the previous day closeted with Lord Madison. Since he appeared to be avoiding her, she hadn’t been able to ask him what had been decided. She tossed her head, hurt by his neglect. Angry to be excluded from the decision-making. But if he thought to bypass her altogether then he could think again. Christine would be a-party to the particulars of that meeting and would tell her everything she wished to know.

  Florentina knew in her heart of hearts that she was being unreasonable. Adam had a whole raft of problems to deal with. She could hardly expect him to devote his limited leisure time to her. He’d done more than enough as it was. There had to be something she could do for him in return.

  As she pondered the situation, a plan took shape in her mind. Adam’s most pressing concern was the young duchess and the mystery surrounding the baby she carried. If Florentina could somehow persuade Lord King to admit to fathering the child, perhaps Adam would be able to use that knowledge against Philippa. If nothing else, it must surely halt her pursuit of Adam. Florentina frowned. Whether the duke would believe it was another matter, but that wouldn’t deter her from gathering the proof. She couldn’t sit idly by and watch the gentleman she loved shouldering such a burden without doing something to assist him.

  She’d been tempted to tell him about Lord King’s ultimatum but when he admitted to the young duchess’s reprehensible pursuit of him, she knew she couldn’t add to his problems.

  She’d been in a lather of fear about King’s intentions. Suddenly, icily calm, she knew precisely what action to take. The evening was hers to fill as she saw fit and as soon as she waved the dowager away, Florentina sprang into action.

  Not wishing to draw attention to her absence by ordering the gig, she walked briskly to Chamberleigh, using a shortcut she favoured across the water meadows, and let herself in through the back door. Christine was sending three of her most experienced girls to the masquerade. All she had to do was borrow a domino from the dressing room and somehow join the carriage that would take them to Lord King’s nearby estate.

  All without being detected.

  Florentina slumped onto a stool amidst the flimsy gowns and petticoats Christine’s ladies wore to ply their trade. When reasoned out
in that fashion, what hope did she realistically have of succeeding? Momentarily defeated, thoughts of Adam strengthened her resolve. She would find a way to carry this thing off if it was the last thing she ever did.

  She selected an anonymous domino and was about to put it on when she realised that she’d not thought to change out of the plain gown she’d been wearing all afternoon. She rolled her eyes. A fine femme fatale she’d make. There was a bewildering array of attire at her disposal in this dressing room and she selected a midnight-blue evening gown with a silver spangled overskirt that, not surprisingly, was daringly revealing. She didn’t dwell upon that since she intended to remain hidden beneath the domino for as long as she possibly could. Beyond that she didn’t dare to speculate for fear that her courage would once again falter.

  Luck was on her side. When she ventured toward the closed carriage waiting to take the ladies to Lord King, she encountered not three domino-clad ladies approaching the conveyance but only two. She concealed herself and listened to their conversation.

  “It’s fortunate for Isabella that Mr. Parker happened to call and ask specifically for her. Christine wouldn’t dream of disappointing him.”

  “It’s a shame that Christine decided not to send someone else in her place. We’ll have to work that much harder now that there’s only two of us.”

  “I wish I’d been Mr. Parker’s choice,” said the lady who Florentina thought was called Serena. “I’d rather have one customer tonight than a whole parade of them, even though we’ll be royally rewarded for our efforts.”

  Florentina shuddered and found it in her heart to sympathize with their predicament.

  She then stepped out from her hiding place and boldly joined her sisters in seduction.

  “Oh, it’s you,” Serena said, not in an unfriendly voice. “Did Christine have a change of heart?”

  “Sí.” Florentina lifted her shoulders as she entered the carriage.

  “It’s the new Spanish girl. She doesn’t speak much English.”

  “She won’t need to do much talking where we’re going.”

  The ladies laughed and Florentina let out a relieved sigh when they didn’t question her further. They’d mistaken her for one of the refugees, who’d decided she was better suited to the life of a light-skirt than for domestic work. Besides, being exceptionally attractive, she almost certainly wouldn’t have been employed by any lady with an ounce of sense for fear of her attracting her husband’s roving eye. Christine, once assured that the girl knew what she was getting into, had immediately offered to employ her.