A Common Scandal

by Amanda Weaver

  Tony Batchelder must have stayed behind, as she could no longer hear him. No one would miss her if she stayed outside a few minutes longer. Frankly no one would miss her until they needed to marry her money.

  She found a bench, one of cold, hard stone, but it would do, and it was set into another leafy alcove, like the one Evelyn and Tony had been in. These people, so full of their own importance because their families held titles, and yet they behaved little better than dockside denizens, when all was said and done. Rapid footsteps grew nearer on the path leading to the alcove. She groaned. If it was Cheadle, she would pitch a fit. Drawing her skirts in around her feet, she made herself as small as possible in the dark, hoping he’d pass by and miss her.

  “Amelia...where are you?”

  She let out a relieved breath. “Oh, Nate, thank heaven.”

  He sprinted around the corner of the box hedges, squinting into the dark. “Where is Cheadle?”

  “Hopefully gone back inside by now.”

  “Did he...” Nate’s hands were fisted at his sides and she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen such a wrathful expression on his face. “Did he...take liberties?”

  She sputtered a laugh, covering her mouth with her hand to muffle the unladylike sound. “Lord, Nate, you sound like an old woman. No, he did not take liberties. No doubt it was on his mind, but I escaped before he could corner me like a hare, and, um...I had another encounter.”

  His eyes narrowed as he slowly advanced into the little leafy alcove with her. “What sort of encounter?”

  “I stumbled upon someone else taking liberties.”

  “Wait...you saw them, too?”

  “You weren’t there. Who did you see?”

  “Kitty and Will Thistlethwaite. Who did you see?”

  Amelia laughed again. “Evelyn and Tony Batchelder. And rather in flagrante, to be frank. I think things had progressed a bit further than Evelyn intended, judging from her reaction. She’d best watch herself. Tony’s a dog.”

  The murderous expression in his eyes cleared and Nate dropped his head forward, letting out a relieved chuckle. “Well, this garden has been put to work tonight.”

  “It’s a veritable den of sin out here.”

  “How’d you escape Cheadle’s grasp?”

  “I lost him somewhere in the hedges. He couldn’t keep up with me.”

  Nate sat down on the bench next to her and stretched out his extraordinarily long legs. “There are few men who could.”

  “At least I’m rid of him for now.”

  “What possessed you to come out here with him anyway? Radwill’s inside, you know.”

  Amelia looked at the ground, grateful the darkness hid her blush. She’d never, ever admit to Nate that she’d come out here because of him. It was too humiliating. “I was talking to his friend, Mr. Morley, who is rather ghastly. Even a walk in the garden with Cheadle seemed preferable to spending another moment in conversation with that man. I honestly don’t understand why he’s here with Cheadle. They seem to hate each other and I can’t imagine under what circumstances they formed an acquaintance.”

  “For all you know Cheadle owes him money or Morley gets him his opium. The aristocracy can get up to all sorts of unsavory dealings with the wrong people when they’re desperate, and you told me he’s broke.”

  “The way he’s been sniffing around me so doggedly is proof of that.”

  “Amelia,” Nate said, his voice growing serious. He sat up and angled his body toward her. “Be careful around him. If he’s that desperate, he might go to unpleasant lengths to pressure a woman into marriage.”

  She snorted. “I’d like to see him try.”

  “You can take care of yourself better than any woman I know, but all the same, don’t let yourself get in a position where you’d have to. You’re far safer with Radwill. He’d never have the gumption to attack anyone. And as you pointed out in your mercenary glee, he’s not nearly as desperate.”

  Amelia bristled. “Radwill is none of your concern. I’ll thank you to keep your pithy observations on his virility to yourself. Where is Julia, anyway? You came out here with her. Don’t tell me you’ve misplaced her. The poor thing might be lost all night in these hedges. Who knows what she could stumble upon.”

  Nate scowled at her. “She went in. She was tired.”

  “Your scintillating conversation couldn’t captivate her any longer?” Amelia smiled serenely, loving the way temper made Nate’s eyes flash.

  “Our conversation was fascinating, for your information.”

  “Yes, the two of you do seem to chatter on tirelessly about your shipping ventures.”

  “She’s interested in my concerns, which I think speaks well of my chances with her.”

  “Well, I’ll have you know I’ve given Radwill leave to use my Christian name.”

  “I’ve been calling her ‘Julia’ for two days.”

  “Then I suppose we’re both getting exactly what we want.”

  A lock of hair had fallen across his forehead, and the imperfection of it, combined with his perfectly tailored evening suit and his raffish features was causing a pleasant sort of pressure to bloom in her chest. Heavens, just sitting near Nate made her pulse race.

  “I suppose we are,” he snapped, leaning over her to make his point. “I hope you’ll be very happy with that lapdog you’re marrying. Tell me, Amelia, do his kisses set you on fire?”

  “Oh, do shut up. As if I’d tell you about his kissing.”

  Nate’s eyes narrowed as it seemed to occur to him that she might have actually kissed Radwill. Amelia let the moment play out, happy to torment him for a bit with the thought. It was only fair, as she’d been tormenting herself not half an hour ago imagining Julia in Nate’s arms.

  It nearly pained her to give voice to her imaginings, but she was desperate to goad him further. She used any ammunition she had. “And Julia? Have you had as much luck skulking understairs with her as you’ve had with me?”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  Amelia leaned in until their faces were inches apart. His expression in the dim light was ferocious. Her heart fluttered with glee. She hadn’t felt this alive since...well, since the last time she’d sparred with Nate. “Don’t tell me she’s a cold fish, Nate. Doesn’t she touch you like I did?” She couldn’t resist reaching out to rest her hand on his thigh.

  “Amelia...” His voice was a low, warning rasp and although some sensible part of Amelia knew she should take care, the larger part of her quite liked him like this. And she quite liked the feel of his long, hard thigh under her fingers. She slid her hand up a few suggestive inches.

  “Doesn’t she like you to touch her?”

  “You know she wouldn’t allow it.”

  “Not at all like me,” she said with a careless shrug.

  “No,” he murmured. “Not at all.”

  Amelia leaned in again, until he could feel her breath on his mouth. His lips fell open. His breathing had grown labored and his eyes hooded. It was a glorious feeling, knowing she’d unsettled him to such a degree. “Too bad for you,” she whispered against his lips. She made to draw back but Nate’s hand shot out, gripping the back of her neck and holding her still.

  “You’re playing with fire, Amelia.”

  “Don’t I always? Maybe I like the heat.”

  “You might get burned.” They stared at each other across the few inches separating them. This was the point at which she should retreat to safety and respectability. But she felt like she might go mad if Nate didn’t kiss her this instant, right or wrong.

  “Better than freezing to death.” She gripped his lapels in her fists and pulled him to her, his mouth crushing down over hers. For a moment, she thought she might have been wrong about playing with fire, because this fire threatened to c
onsume her the instant they touched. Nate’s hands found her waist and pulled her up against his chest and she blissfully let the fire consume her. The world fell away, her existence contracting to Nate and how she felt when he touched her—his hands, his lips, the long, strong length of his body leaning over her.

  His hand, so large it nearly spanned her back, slid up between her shoulder blades until his fingers tangled in her hair, angling her face to better receive his assault. The first two times they’d kissed, she’d been enthusiastic, but new at it. Now she knew what she wanted. She knew how to kiss him, how to touch him to get him to make her feel the way she wanted. And oh, how she felt. It seemed impossible a mere meeting of lips could be felt over every inch of her body. Her heart pounded as desire knotted low in her abdomen. Her thighs felt oddly exposed, even under all her skirts and petticoats. Every part of her seemed to strain toward him, wanting to be touched by him. His kisses, as intoxicating as they were, weren’t nearly enough.

  Nate seemed to feel the same way, since he rapidly left his restraint behind, pressing her back against the bench until she was nearly lying down underneath him. His hand reached down and found her knee, even through the layers of her dress, and lifted. Suddenly he was closer, hovering over her, nearly between her thighs. She could feel his intent, and the promise of where this could lead, and she wanted it. Her desire for him was nearly a living thing, unfurling and snapping inside of her.

  With one hand, she gripped his hair. The other cradled his face, tracing the strong line of his cheekbone, down over his hard jaw and down his neck to the collar of his shirt. There was too much between them. Starched cotton and silver shirt studs, silk and wool and countless layers of finery when all she wanted was him, bared to her exploring hands. What would his chest feel like? And those broad strong shoulders? She wanted to run her palms down his back, the strength and shape of which had barely been hinted at beneath his suits. And she wanted to run her hands lower, over his bottom and around front to there. She wanted to touch every part of him, and she wanted his hands on every part of her. Her skin tingled with longing but she was buried underneath heaps of fine clothing.

  Nate’s mouth left hers, trailing kisses along her cheek to her earlobe. His tongue swiped along the soft, sensitive spot underneath it and she gasped. With one hand he still cradled her head, protecting her from the stone bench underneath her. His other hand roamed her body, sliding up her thigh, gripping her tightly cinched waist and finally moving up to cup her breast. His thumb swept over the top edge of her evening gown, to where her breast swelled above it. That small contact wasn’t nearly enough and she arched against him, willing away all the layers separating her bare skin from his.

  “Dammit, Amelia, this is wrong,” he muttered against her neck before he kissed her there, a hot, openmouthed kiss that sent goose bumps racing down her body.

  She fisted her hands in his hair and hauled his face up to hers again. “Shut up and kiss me, Nate.”

  He did, and she could taste his anger and frustration in it as much as she could taste his raw desire. His hand returned to her knee and she felt him gathering her skirts up. The cool night air hit her ankle, then her calf and then her thigh. His palm slid up, cupping behind her knee and pulling her leg open. They’d shifted on the bench, and now he lay nearly on top of her, his long body cradled between her thighs. When she felt the rough rasp of his fingertips on the delicate skin of her inner thigh, she gasped, but he changed the angle of his kiss and smothered the sound.

  His fingers continued to slide up her thigh, over her bloomers, toward a place no one had ever dared touch her. The writhing desire in her stomach threatened to overwhelm her. She needed something from him, something she had only a hazy knowledge of. But Nate’s sure handling of her body led her to believe he knew how to give it to her. When his fingers brushed against her, she froze in shock. Surely he didn’t mean to...? And then he found the slit in her bloomers and she knew exactly what he intended to do. One moment she felt him moving aside the delicate cotton and the next, his fingertips were dragging through the wet heat between her legs.

  “Nate!” She arched underneath him.

  “Shh,” he soothed, kissing her to swallow the sounds she made as his fingers worked back and forth. And... good God, she felt him push inside her, a finger and then two. The invasion felt wholly foreign and utterly insufficient. Even as her body stretched around him, she wanted more. She wanted all of it, everything there was to explore with him. His fingers set up a slow, pulsing rhythm, one she seemed to recognize instinctively, her body moving to match it.

  “Please,” she murmured against his lips.

  “I won’t ruin you, Amelia,” he rasped. “I can’t. But this...I can do this.”

  His thumb rubbed against her right where she was most sensitive and she cried out, the sound muffled by his kiss. Oh, it felt so good, so right. Too much and not enough. The simmering desire she’d felt since she’d first kissed him boiled over. Heat flashed down her legs and through her belly, drawing in to the most exquisite pinpoint of pleasure right where his hand met her skin, before exploding outward again.

  As Nate felt her go limp beneath him, he groaned, low and guttural, into the crook of her neck. He didn’t move as Amelia slowly came back to earth, her limbs filling with languor as she held on to him.

  “Oh, Nate...”

  He pushed himself up onto his hands, still hovering over her, eyes squeezed shut. “Good God, this is a disaster.”

  “But—” She reached up to touch his face but he reared away, sitting up and shoving his hands through his hair.

  “No, Amelia. We should not have done that. It’s inexcusable.”

  Amelia sat up as well, tugging her skirt back down. “Please don’t scold me now.”

  “I’m scolding both of us. This was madness. Wrong and dangerous and—”

  Abruptly, she stood up. Sitting in such close proximity to him was unbearable. All the pleasure they’d shared was rapidly curdling in her stomach. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared down at him. “I never would have guessed you as one of these hidebound sticklers for propriety, Nate. You’re a man of the world. You’ve seen and done everything.”

  “I’m not a stickler.”

  “You could have fooled me. All this bemoaning.”

  “I’m trying to protect you, you infuriating woman!” he said in a near shout, leaping to his feet, as well. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath before continuing in a quieter tone. “You’re after Radwill and according to you, he’s interested. I’m trying to keep you from making a misstep that would cost you everything you say you want.”

  “Trying to protect me, or trying to protect your own mercenary self-interests? After all, what would the elegant Lady Julia say if she saw you out here with me?”

  “Leave her out of this.”

  She scoffed to cover the pain seeping through her heart. She’d forgotten in the midst of what had transpired, that he was pursuing some other woman. This extraordinary thing that had passed between them, what he’d done to her—was nothing. Not to him. “Of course. Because she’s the fair, untouched girl you mean to marry. I’m just the old acquaintance with loose morals who’s good for a quick tussle in the garden.”

  “That’s not fair. You started this.”

  Those words landed like a blow. She fell back a step, gripping her elbows with her hands to hold herself together. The chill of the night finally settled in and she felt cold to her bones. She was shaking with it. Forcing a smile she didn’t feel, she chuckled. “Why, yes I did. How very like me, right, Nate? Throwing myself at one man in the garden while I pursue a different man in the parlor. Exactly what everyone expects of me.”

  “Stop it. You know that’s not what I think of you.”

  “Do I? All you do is scold me for my bad behavior.”

  Nate said nothing, droppi
ng his head forward and planting his hands on his hips. That was worse. At least when he fought back, it felt like they still shared some connection. His silence, his defeat, felt like a judgment. Here he was, trying to move on and up in the world, and here she was, still the wild little hoyden she’d been as a child, taunting him until she got them both into trouble.

  “You used to like my bad behavior,” she said softly, too tired to summon any more anger.

  “We were children, Amelia.”

  This had to end. He was about to marry another woman and still, she couldn’t stay away from him, no matter how many times he told her to. Because she loved him, of course. It was clear to her now, and in a way, it felt inevitable. Of course it would be Nate she fell in love with. He’d captured her heart as a little girl and he still held it, now when she was a woman. He probably always would, no matter who she married, no matter who he married. Oh, love was terrible.

  “Yes, and as you keep reminding me, we’re not anymore.” She reached into the edge of her bodice to retrieve the thing she’d been wearing near her heart all week—his sea glass. Stupid, sentimental girl, clinging to something that meant nothing to him anymore. “Here. I’ve been meaning to return this to you for ages.”

  She tossed it at him, aiming for his face, but even in the dark, his reflexes were too quick, and he snatched it out of the air. Turning it over in his long fingers, he examined it, wonder overtaking his features.

  “I can’t believe you kept this.”

  “Yes, well, I always was very silly. But as we’re not in a position to continue any sort of friendship, I shouldn’t keep it.”

  He raised his head. “Amelia—”

  She continued, as if she hadn’t heard him, hadn’t heard the note of raw longing in his voice. Good. She hoped it hurt. Loving him hurt, and she wanted him to hurt as much as she did. In her pain, she lashed out blindly. “I don’t think we have anything more to say to one another. I’d appreciate it if you stayed away from me for the remainder of the week. Good night, Mr. Smythe.”