“How so?” The earl appeared cautious.
“By helping to share some rumors.”
“Gossiping? I thought you above that,” Adair said with a smile.
“Allow us to call it dissuasion.” At Adair’s raised brow, Oliver explained his idea to share information with certain individuals known to have visited some of the more questionable brothels or those who enjoyed spreading news.
“Clever,” Adair admitted. “Discourages those who pay for certain services, which should make a financial impact, eh?”
“Exactly my thought. If you could see fit to mention the rumors to one or two who you think could be effective in aiding us, it would be much appreciated.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Oliver bid the earl goodbye and headed toward the door, more than ready to return home. He dearly hoped their endeavors would make a difference. With continued effort and some luck, Smithby would have less of a reason to force young girls into a life of prostitution.
Now if they could only put an end to his ring of professional thieves, Oliver would be able to return to the peace and quiet of his books.
~*~
Julia searched the throng of people at the ball that evening, hoping she might speak with Lettie Fairchild. Aunt Matilda was visiting with one of her many friends near the refreshment table, leaving Julia free to wander. She dearly wanted to know how well Lettie knew Viscount Frost, and if he needed that book as desperately as he insisted.
Heaven knew she’d had no luck convincing her father to give up on the book or the project. On the contrary, he seemed obsessed with it. He’d spent hours taking copious notes of what he’d found, muttering as he’d read and re-read pages he thought held significance.
Julia had even attempted to convince her aunt that studying the text was too much for her father, but Aunt Matilda had stared at her in disbelief. “You can’t be serious,” had been her only response. She thought it delightful that her brother had found a fellow scholar to discuss “those old, dusty books with” who was “young and handsome rather than on his deathbed.”
It hadn’t taken long for Julia to give up attempting to gain her assistance.
After further consideration, she’d decided it would make sense to know more about the viscount if possible, hence her search for Lettie now.
Odds were slim that Lettie would be here this evening as neither Lettie nor Julia attended many events. Julia disliked leaving her father, and Lettie had never really enjoyed social activities, but now attending parties gave her the opportunity to spend time with her betrothed. Julia feared that once the couple was married, she’d rarely see Lettie.
Moving slowly through the crowd, she spoke with several people she knew.
“Lady Julia, you look beautiful this evening,” Lord Malverson greeted her. “May I request the honor of this dance?”
“That would be lovely,” she reluctantly agreed. The lord was not one she particularly liked although she didn’t know him well. She didn’t want to encourage him, nor did she want to be rude. Perhaps dancing with him would both fulfill her social obligation and allow her to spot Lettie more easily.
“Quite the crush, eh?” he asked as they made their way to the dance floor.
“Indeed.” She could think of no other topic of conversation. Luckily the music began, and the movements of the dance prevented them from speaking further.
The warmth of the June day had not faded with the setting sun. Added to that was the crowd of people and the exertion of the dance, and soon, Julia felt almost faint from the heat and crush.
When the music came to an end, she smiled at the lord. “Thank you for the dance.”
“You appear quite warm,” he said as his gaze raked over her face before dipping lower. “Why don’t we step outside for a breath of fresh air?”
As she drew a breath, she realized she truly did need some fresh air if she wanted to avoid making a fool of herself. Either that or a chair, but none were in sight.
He didn’t wait for her agreement but tucked her gloved hand under his arm and moved toward the garden doors. “I don’t know why they don’t simply leave open the doors.”
Julia concentrated on breathing slowly, her corset preventing her from drawing a proper breath. She hadn’t thought it was so tight earlier. Surely once she cooled off she’d feel better.
Her anxiety eased when the night air swept over her, yet still the light-headedness continued.
“Come this way,” the lord suggested, his voice sounding muffled. “It will be cooler along the rear garden wall.”
She didn’t think to question his logic as she was desperate to cool down.
The shadows were deeper here, and the sounds of the ballroom faded. She drew her hand away from Lord Malverson as he seemed to radiate heat at an alarming rate. His presence wasn’t helping in the least, especially when he turned toward her, standing far too close.
She drew back a step, wanting only to breathe.
“Lady Julia, you are such an attractive woman. You must know by now that I find you most appealing.” He reached out as his whispered words settled through her clouded mind, his finger trailed along her cheek. “Your skin is like alabaster.”
With alarm, she realized the precarious situation in which she’d placed herself. How stupid of her. She knew better than to come outside with a man, especially one like Lord Malverson. She didn’t trust him—not that she knew him. But her instincts for self-preservation were normally sound.
If she’d been feeling like her normal self, none of this would’ve happened.
“I’m terribly sorry if I’ve mislead you in any way,” she began as she realized how very alone they were.
“You’ve lead me in more ways than I can count.” In the dim shadows, she could just make out his smile. “Allow me to show you.”
Before she knew what he was about, he’d taken her into his arms and pulled her tight against him. She put her hands before her to prevent him from coming any closer. “No need, my lord. As I said, I believe you misunderstood. It’s just that I wasn’t feeling well—”
“Of course, you weren’t,” he whispered. “I’m here for you. Trust me.” He dipped his head so quickly that she couldn’t avoid his lips.
“No. I insist you stop this,” she managed as she twisted her head to the side, then shoved her hands against his chest. Unfortunately, he didn’t move.
“Come now, my dear. We both know what you want.” His arms suddenly felt like bands of steel wrapped about her, impossible to break. Again he attempted a kiss, this time even more determined than before.
His hot breath smelled of whisky and cigars, and turned her stomach. She moved her head to the side but couldn’t escape his damp lips. Bile rose in the back of her throat along with panic. This couldn’t be happening.
“No,” she demanded again. The sounds of the crowded ballroom were so muffled that she knew no one could hear her if she called for help. Nor did she care to be caught alone with this man.
Gathering herself, she stomped on his foot, but her effort had little effect. She twisted and turned as best she could, but his arms only tightened more, stealing her breath. A hopeless feeling washed through her at the onslaught. How dare he take such liberties when she’d truly only wanted fresh air.
Only one way to stop him came to mind—she pretended to faint. Though it was difficult as every bone in her body demanded she fight, she went completely limp, taking the lord by surprise.
“Hold,” a deep voice commanded from the shadowed darkness of the garden.
“What?” Malverson turned at the voice, trying to hold Julia.
Uncertain who approached, Julia remained limp with her eyes closed. Malverson’s hands squeezed her waist painfully. Why didn’t he simply let go so she might fall to the ground?
“Release her.”
Something about the gruffness of that voice sounded familiar. Her eyes popped open. Viscount Frost?
She gave up feigning unco
nsciousness and glanced at her would-be rescuer. It was indeed the very man who’d stolen her sleep the previous night. She straightened, once again trying to shove away Lord Malverson’s hands.
Malverson looked from Frost then to her as though uncertain on whom he should focus then glared at Frost. “Your presence is not needed here.”
“Let her go.” When Malverson didn’t immediately comply, Viscount Frost shoved Malverson’s shoulder, forcing the lord to release her and she stumbled back.
Frost spun Malverson to face him then delivered a blow to his jaw.
“Damn you,” Malverson muttered as he righted himself and wiped his bleeding lip with the back of his hand. “This is none of your affair.”
“The hell it isn’t. The lady said no.” The viscount’s gaze met hers as though to reassure himself that she was well. The cold rage there took her aback.
Malverson lunged for Frost. Rather than dodging his grasp, Frost reached for him as though eager for the fight.
Julia’s heart leaped to her throat as she watched the men struggle.
Frost dodged Malverson’s blow then threw one of his own. Malverson doubled over in pain, a keening sound coming out of his mouth.
“Stop,” Julia ordered, though her voice was barely above a whisper. Her entire body trembled as the two men continued their battle. She’d never seen such a sight.
The viscount seized Malverson’s upper arms as though he hadn’t heard her. He forced him upright only to strike him in the stomach again. Malverson reared several steps back from the blow then roared as he rushed forward, head down, toward Frost.
Frost easily shoved his advance to the side. Malverson caught his balance then spun back, fists at the ready as he approached Frost again.
“Mind your own business,” Malverson said with a snarl, a trickle of blood coming from the corner of his mouth. “I didn’t need your comments at the club this afternoon, and I certainly don’t need you to interfere now.”
“I beg to differ.” Frost didn’t have his hands raised to defend himself, making Julia wonder why he wasn’t going to protect himself.
Malverson threw a punch.
Frost’s reaction was so quick, it was nothing but a blur to Julia. He blocked Malverson’s fist with his forearm then cuffed Malverson’s jaw, sending him stumbling back. Frost followed and struck him again. Malverson plowed into a bush, cursing as he attempted to regain his feet. Despite the noise the men were making, no one came out of the ballroom to investigate.
“Please, stop,” Julia demanded, her voice stronger. She no longer believed this fight was solely about her. The men obviously had some sort of history.
Frost’s gaze remained on Malverson, ignoring Julia. When his fists clenched as though prepared to deliver another blow, Julia stepped forward and gripped his arm.
“Viscount Frost.” The absolute focus that etched his features, from the fierce line of his brow to the muscle ticking in his jaw, was evident even in the dim light.
She squeezed his arm and at last her presence seemed to penetrate his anger. He blinked as though clearing his mind, his gaze sweeping her face.
“Are you all right?” he asked. At her nod, the stiffness eased from his body. He looked again at Malverson who now stood a few feet away, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.
“Damn you, Frost.”
“No. Damn you, Malverson. Your behavior is unacceptable and always has been. Money can’t hide your disgusting behavior.”
The lord raised his chin. “And what of yours, Frost? You are far from innocent. Do you think what you did in Ethiopia went untold?”
Julia looked between the two men. Though she had no idea of what they spoke, she did know there was only one man before her who she would trust—Viscount Frost.
Even as she reached that conclusion, he glanced down at her warily, doubt in his expression, as though expecting her to run in fright from Malverson’s implication.
Did this have something to do with the secrets he held in those eyes?
No matter. She might not know him, but she knew herself, and all her instincts told her he was a man on whom she could count.
“Lady Julia, step away,” Malverson demanded. “You do not want to be associated with the likes of him.”
“I prefer his company over yours.” She kept her hand on Frost’s arm.
Malverson sneered. “You have poor taste.”
“Leave, Malverson, before I throw you out myself.”
Even now, Julia could feel the barely contained energy in Frost, despite the layers separating them. It radiated off him much like heat from a fire.
“Take care that you don’t venture into my circles again, Frost, or I will tell everyone who you really are.” Then the lord turned on his heel and disappeared into the rear of the garden, leaving silence in his wake.
Julia drew a shuddering breath, as much of one as her corset allowed, realizing her knees were weak from the entire encounter. She closed her eyes, thinking how stupid she’d been to step into the garden with Malverson to begin with.
“Are you certain you’re all right?” Frost asked, his quiet, deep voice threatening the tight hold she had over her roiling emotions.
She thought she nodded, though she wasn’t quite sure. She didn’t dare open her eyes. Not until she’d regained her equilibrium.
Warm hands drew her forward, feeling so different from the terrible, overbearing ones holding her earlier. His strength made her feel all the weaker as she allowed him to wrap her in his embrace.
She took another breath, trying to keep her composure.
“Why on earth would you come outside with anyone, let alone Malverson?” The reprimand in his tone was impossible to ignore and made Julia feel even worse.
“I didn’t intend to. I—I wasn’t feeling well and needed fresh air.” Her words were muffled as her face was pressed against his suit coat.
The oath he muttered didn’t bear repeating.
A hot ball of emotion stuck in her throat. How could he not realize she felt bad enough already? He was once again the rude, insufferable man she’d initially thought. Why had she believed any differently? She latched onto the anger gratefully, anything to push back the tears.
She straightened, determined to leave Viscount Frost in the dark garden by himself. Obviously he preferred his own company above anyone else’s. Her aunt would no doubt be wondering where she was.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He pulled her back, holding her tight against him.
After stilling for a long moment, she gave up, taking the comfort he offered.
“Lady Julia.”
She knew he wanted her to look at him, but she wasn’t ready.
Then he had the gall to put the gentlest of hands along her cheek. Her heart turned within her chest.
“Julia.” His whispered use of her given name drained all resistance. She looked up into the shadowed depths of his secret-filled, green eyes, and her heart took another twist.
“I’m sorry Malverson accosted you. I wish I would’ve arrived sooner.”
“I’m only glad you aided me when you did.”
His gaze dropped to her lips, and she wanted nothing more than for him to kiss her, to wipe away the memory of Malverson’s mouth on hers.
Yet he merely continued to hold her, leaving her longing for more. Thoughts of her aunt and anyone else who might have noticed her absence from the ball fell away.
When his gaze returned to hers, it only took a moment for her to realize desire was in their depths. That was all she needed to know. She lifted up on her toes, raising her hands to his shoulders and kissed him.
For a moment, he was unresponsive. Then with a groan, he returned the kiss, his mouth hot against hers. His arms shifted from a comforting hold to a warm embrace. He eased her closer, still being gentle as though afraid he’d frighten her. While she appreciated his efforts, that wasn’t what she needed, what she wanted. In this moment, she wanted his desire and all that cam
e with it.
“Julia,” he whispered again. The passion in his voice sent shivers dancing over her skin.
Yes. This was exactly what she needed. A part of her was shocked at her behavior. Again. But after what she’d experienced in Oliver’s arms the previous day, this was no surprise, only a pleasure. Each moment with him pushed away Malverson’s detestable behavior.
Oliver’s hands felt marvelous as they roamed over her back, spanning her waist, then shifting up. Her breasts tingled in response as though anticipating his touch. His tongue sought entrance, and she willingly gave it. The slide of it against hers made her body quiver.
He drew back, resting his forehead against hers as though trying to regain control. But she didn’t want him to. Not yet. Perhaps not ever, but definitely not yet. Her body tingled in places she hadn’t known it could, and she wasn’t ready to let that go.
Placing her hands on either side of his face, she kissed him again, passionately, deeply. He drew her tightly against his hard length. It felt marvelous to think he might need and want her as much as she did him. She couldn’t help but shift against him, reveling in their differences. His hands travelled along her body as though sculpting her curves until she hummed with desire.
“So sweet,” he whispered as he captured her lips once more.
So this was what it was like, she marveled. Finding passion in a man’s arms was nothing like she’d expected. She hadn’t anticipated being so tempted to discover more.
But now was not the time or the place. She had responsibilities that couldn’t be set aside. Not even for this.
She shifted to draw back from their embrace. As though he read her thoughts, he loosened his arms and simply held her. Oddly enough, it didn’t calm the flame burning inside. If anything, the sweetness of his embrace only fanned it. She remained in his arms, letting her heart slow its rapid pace.
“I would offer an apology for my behavior, but I am not sorry for kissing you.” The rumble of his voice settled into her chest, lodging something there.
She eased back to look up into his face, wondering what she’d find there. But his expression was carefully guarded.
Charming the Scholar (The Seven Curses of London Book 2) Page 5