His Scandal

by Gayle Callen

  “I don’t make it a habit to seduce maidens.”

  “Then what is this wager?”

  Was Alex actually blushing?

  With a grim voice, he said, “Edmund and I had grown rather bored. A scandal was expected of me—hell, I expected it of myself—so we proposed a private wager. We each picked out the target for the other.”

  “Target?” she whispered, feeling her throat squeeze tightly around the word.

  “It was only a kiss,” he insisted. “We bet on who could be the first to kiss a maiden. For him I picked out Lady Elizabeth, and for me he chose…”

  His words died away and Emmeline finished for him. “Blythe.”

  He nodded slowly. “Yes.”

  A fury like she’d never experienced began to bubble in her veins. “You deliberately toyed with my sister’s affections, all for a kiss.”

  “I only did what any other man there was trying to do, and that was to get to know her.”

  “For a selfish purpose!” she shot back, advancing on him. “She is looking for a man to spend her life with, and you were someone she considered, because she was flattered by your attentions. But all you wanted was a kiss! Or was it more?”

  “Em—”

  “Edmund did not stop with a kiss, so surely you, the great master of scoundrels, would not have stopped there, either.”

  “I promise you, I was not interested in her like that. I don’t need to compromise young girls when there are so many women who want to be compromised!”

  Emmeline, feeling her face drain of blood, swayed with dizziness. “You mean women like me,” she whispered, her wide eyes fixed on him.

  Chapter 25

  Alex’s face paled. “I didn’t mean you, Emmeline. You must believe me.”

  “Sweet God, how you must be laughing at me.”

  “Em—”

  He tried to take her hand, but she backed away from him.

  “I even offered myself to you! You hardly needed to try to compromise me.”

  “You weren’t part of the wager,” he said, stepping toward her. “In fact, you stood in the way of it. And I was intrigued, damn it.”

  “Then why didn’t you change the wager to me?”

  His silence was her answer.

  “You wanted to, didn’t you?” she said, forcing a laugh even as everything in her seemed to die. “I was much easier than my sister.”

  “If that’s all it was, I could have ended the wager long ago. I had already kissed your sister, but I didn’t tell Edmund.”

  “Then it must be because you wanted to finish what you started.”

  “No, because I wanted to be with you!”

  She covered her mouth with her hand, feeling tears well in her eyes and fall down her cheeks. “Don’t! Don’t lie to make this easier on yourself.”

  Alex took hold of her shoulders and pulled her closer. “I am not lying.”

  She looked up into the face of a man who could seduce women as a game. Just when she saw a better side of him, he revealed a new low. Everything everyone said about him was true, and she had foolishly thought only she understood him. But he’d been using her and her sister as an amusing diversion.

  In trying to protect her sister from hurt, she had opened herself up to despair and humiliation. She couldn’t look at him anymore.

  “Let me go,” she whispered.

  For a moment she almost wished he’d disobey her, so she could slap him. But he released her.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “Edmund can escort me home.” She couldn’t look back at him. “I don’t ever want to see you again.”

  The door slammed shut and Alex flinched. In his mind he saw Emmeline’s face again—her shock and disappointment turning into horror—and he felt sick inside.

  How had a foolish game ended up causing so much harm? Why had he not seen what the repercussions would be?

  Because he was a selfish fool, who thought only of his own pleasure. He had never imagined the desperation of needing to explain himself. He had wanted Emmeline’s understanding—only to find that it was too late.

  He told himself it was better this way. What did he think would come of this, after all? Now he could pay off his debts, go back to his mistress, and live the life he was good at.

  Then why did the coming days seem so bleak, so—lonely? How had he come to depend on Emmeline’s presence?

  A sennight passed, and Emmeline began to breathe easier. Her father and the servants kept quiet about her adventure with Alex, and her reputation remained intact. Blythe didn’t need her anymore; she had more suitors than ever, and Maxwell was a frequent visitor. Emmeline tried to make her life as it used to be, even attending meetings at Whitehall.

  But every night she sobbed alone in her room until her chest ached. Surely she could cry away the emptiness she felt. How could she miss Alex so desperately, after he’d made a fool of her?

  Eight days had passed since she’d last seen him, and that night she sat alone in her chamber, looking out the window over the gardens toward the Thames. Her throat was raw from crying. In the distance she could see the wherries ferrying passengers by lantern light.

  She heard a knock at the door and ignored it, so whoever it was would think she was asleep. But the door creaked open.

  “Emmy?”

  She quickly wiped the tears from her face and donned a stiff smile before facing Blythe. “Why dearest, you should be in bed. ’Tis late.”

  Blythe held a candle that illuminated her concern. “You’ve said more than once that you don’t want to talk, but I just can’t pass by your chamber and hear you crying and do nothing. Emmy, please, talk to me!”

  Emmeline shook her head as she stood up. “There’s nothing to say. I’ve made a fool of myself and I just need to recover from it. ’Tis anger causing these tears.”

  “I don’t believe you,” Blythe said softly, coming forward to take Emmeline’s hand. “You miss him.”

  She bit her lip, surprised that she even had tears left to flood her eyes. “I refuse to miss him. He is not worthy of that.”

  “You don’t mean that. I agree that the wager was an inconsiderate thing to do, but I was not hurt by it.”

  But I was, Emmeline thought. She hadn’t told her sister everything, how Alex had tried to seduce her, and how she’d nearly given in. She would never be able to put her humiliation into words.

  “You’re too close to see it clearly,” Blythe continued. “Alex wanted to be with you, not me. Everything he did was meant to give you a reason to see him. You cannot fault him for that.”

  “You don’t understand men like him,” Emmeline said. “There was only one reason he wanted to be near me.”

  “I don’t believe that. It’s been months, Emmy. He could have found what you’re implying quite easily, with any of his old mistresses. But he didn’t.”

  “How could you know such a thing?” she demanded, aghast that she was having such a conversation with her innocent sister.

  “I asked Maxwell to find out for me.”

  “What!”

  “I privately told him that I thought Alex was interested in you, and he agreed. Then he went off to speak to Alex’s acquaintances. Believe me, Maxwell can be very circumspect. He said that Alex has not acted like himself for many months. The places he used to frequent, well, he just has not had time to visit them. He’s been too busy—with you.”

  Emmeline opened her mouth, but could think of nothing to say. Could Blythe be right? Yet it was so painful to hope.

  “Dearest, I will think about what you said.” Emmeline squeezed the girl’s hand and let go, attempting a smile. “I don’t know if I can get used to you being so grown up and wise.”

  Blythe kissed her cheek and walked to the door. “If I am so, then it is all because of you, Emmy. Sleep well.”

  Early the next day, Emmeline’s maid handed her a missive from Alex’s mother. She stared at the parchment in surprise, then felt foreboding when she
was told the coachman was waiting for an answer. She hadn’t known that Lady Thornton had returned from Wight. The last letter she’d received from the countess had mentioned no travel plans. What could she have to say—unless something had happened to Alex?

  She quickly broke open the wax seal and read the letter. It was not Alex who was in trouble—it was his brother, Spencer. The viscount had escorted his mother back to London after her visit with her grandson, and last evening he had disappeared, leaving his horse to return home without him. Lady Thornton said Alex suspected the Langston brothers again, and she thought Emmeline would want to know.

  Emmeline felt not a moment of doubt about what she would do.

  She was going to Alex.

  She ran up to her chamber to dress. In the flurry of activity she felt strangely removed, even amazed. What else could her certainty mean, except that she must be in love with him?

  She had always thought that love would come to her like shooting stars, or the greatest orchestration of music. Instead, during the mundane task of fastening her cloak, she knew with a certainty that being with Alex was all that mattered, that she loved him. All she could think about was the Alex who had dreamed of modernization instead of dissipation when he’d played the viscount, the Alex who felt he always came in second in his family. Later, she would deal with discovering whether he loved her in return.

  Emmeline barely remembered the coach ride to Thornton Manor. She jumped out before the coach had quite stopped and raced up the steps in the rain, flinging open the door instead of knocking. A surprised servant fell back, and Emmeline barreled past him, saying, “Where is Sir Alexander?”

  “In the withdrawing chamber, my lady,” the servant answered. “May I take your—”

  But she pushed open the door and came to a stop at the threshold. Lady Thornton, at the window, but gave her a welcoming smile. Alex and Edmund were hunched over a paper-strewn desk. Neither saw her.

  “Damn, but you should have tried to get to Elizabeth sooner,” Alex was saying.

  “I visited every day, but she refused to see me!” Edmund protested.

  “You could have climbed into her chamber at night.”

  “And make her think that I didn’t want to marry her honorably by the light of day? But why take Spencer?”

  “Because they think he’s me! Haven’t they proven their stupidity over and over again? Just let me explain my plan.”

  Emmeline sank into a chair beside the door and simply watched Alex. He looked tired, with dark circles beneath his eyes, as if he’d spent the week as sleepless as she had. Yet his voice was cool and precise as he explained his plan to invade the Langston household with a score of men. He showed no desperation, only the confidence of an intelligent man who knew without a doubt that he would succeed at whatever he did.

  Emmeline could only watch, feeling the enormity of her love for him swell in her chest. The jokes he reserved for when things were too emotionally confusing were gone—he was serious and focused. Would it always be like this? Would she always find a new, deeper Alex to love?

  As she contemplated her feelings, a man who looked just like Alex walked into the withdrawing room. As she looked up, he smiled down at her and took off his rain-spattered cloak.

  It was Spencer, alive and unharmed!

  He held a finger to his lips, a devilish glint in his eye reminiscent of Alex. She could only gape as relief made her sag back in the chair. He casually strolled toward the two men still pondering their plans at the desk. With his hands behind his back, he studied them.

  Alex was talking to Edmund. “I’ll go in the main door, so they’ll be confused. After all, they think they have me. I want you to enter through the back, and try to keep hidden until you see that I need you.”

  Spencer cleared his throat. “And what would you like me to do?”

  “You go around to the—” Alex broke off and swiftly straightened. “Spence!”

  Lady Thornton let out a glad cry and rushed to hug her son. Emmeline saw the deep relief Alex quickly covered, and the easygoing grin that replaced it. Before her eyes he turned back into scandalous Alex Thornton.

  He clasped Spencer’s hand. “Well, I’m glad I don’t have to exert myself. It’s been so long, I was certain I’d forgotten how to use a sword.”

  Lady Thornton dabbed at her eyes, even as she kept Spencer’s arm about her shoulders. “Tell us how you escaped, my son.”

  “’Tis hardly a tale worth telling,” Spencer answered, as he accepted a goblet of wine from Edmund. “Of course they wouldn’t believe me when I said I wasn’t you. They were inept and didn’t think to post a guard after they’d tied me up and left me in a room. It was rather easy to get away after that.”

  As the three men congratulated each other, Lady Thornton called out, “Lady Emmeline! Please come join us.”

  Emmeline rose to her feet as the men turned to stare at her. Alex’s black eyes seemed to light from within for a moment, then his smile faded.

  “Lady Emmeline,” he said, nodding too courteously to her. “Forgive me for not greeting you earlier.”

  “I did not want to disturb you,” she said, coming forward. “But now you could introduce me to your brother.”

  He seemed to blink at her in surprise, then did as she asked. “Spence, this is Lady Emmeline Prescott. Lady Emmeline, my brother, Lord Thornton.”

  “My lord,” she said, curtsying, all the while keeping her gaze locked with Alex’s. “I’m glad to see you have returned safely home.”

  “How did you know about the kidnapping?” Alex asked.

  “Lady Thornton sent me a missive.”

  He glanced sharply at his mother, who merely smiled innocently at him and said, “Now that she’s here, she can enjoy a celebratory dinner with us. Would you stay, Lady Emmeline?”

  Alex said, “I’m sure she won’t want—”

  “I would enjoy that,” Emmeline interrupted.

  He studied her as she allowed Spencer to lead her into the dining chamber. Let him think what he would. She didn’t know what she meant to do about Alex Thornton yet, but she was not about to let him go easily.

  Chapter 26

  After a pleasant reunion meal, where Alex stared at her so much she had trouble remembering how to eat, Emmeline accepted his offer to escort her home. Lady Thornton approached her, and to Emmeline’s amazement, kissed both of her cheeks and whispered, “Courage, dear one.”

  Soon Emmeline and Alex were alone in the coach, leaving the Thornton estate for the busy streets of London. She said nothing, but just allowed Alex to sit at her side in silence, listening to the soft patter of rain on the roof. She had no plan—she could hardly blurt out her love for him, knowing that he would reject any such sentiment.

  “I still don’t know why you came,” he finally said. “You said you never wanted to see me again.”

  “I changed my mind.” 334

  “I can’t change what I did, or explain it in better terms.”

  “I don’t expect you to.”

  “Then what do you want of me?”

  Your love, she thought desperately, knowing it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. But all she said was, “Maybe I came because I thought you might need me.”

  He smiled. “According to you, I needed you for only one thing.”

  “I’m reconsidering that.”

  He stretched his long legs out in the casual, uncaring sprawl he was so good at. “Why?”

  “I had thought that you might need some support while your brother was missing.” Hesitantly, she laid her hand on top of his. “It must have brought up all the worries you felt when he was gone so long helping the government.”

  He pulled away. “Worries? What worries did I have, Emmeline? I had all my brother’s wealth and all his power. Maybe I didn’t even want him to return.”

  “You don’t truly mean that.”

  “Don’t I? Don’t you think there were moments when I was only him, not myself? I looked in a mirror and
saw him. I looked at his friends, and to them I was him.” He paused. “Maybe some part of me didn’t want to give that up.”

  His sudden despair made her ache for him.

  Without looking at her, he said hoarsely, “I’m afraid there was some part of me that didn’t want Spencer to return. Maybe I only needed to rescue him today out of guilt, or some old loyalty that became meaningless long ago. When he was gone so long, I never even looked into where he was!”

  “You couldn’t, not without risking his life.”

  “You don’t know that—I don’t know that. Maybe I wanted him to be dead.”

  Emmeline rose up on her knees on the bench and leaned against his chest, framing his face in her hands. “Don’t do this to yourself. You may have envied your brother, but you wouldn’t wish him dead. I know you.”

  “You don’t know me, Em.”

  She kissed him hard on the mouth, putting all her love there in hopes that he’d recognize it for what it was. “I want to know everything about you, good and bad. I want you to let me in.”

  She kissed him again, softly, gently, and moaned when his hand cupped her head.

  “Em—”

  “No, don’t talk.” She reached behind him and unrolled the curtain, then did the same on the other side, muting the light in the coach. When she came back to him he was watching her, the despair receding from his face and passion taking its place. She didn’t want him thinking, only feeling, and maybe that was really the way to communicate her love to him.

  Staring into his eyes, she spread his doublet wide and let her hands run down his chest, her thumbs brushing over his nipples as he’d done to her. He shuddered and whispered her name.

  Oh, this was heady, this sensation of knowing she could affect him the way he’d affected her. She pushed him lower onto the bench, then straddled him, pushing her skirts to the sides. Pulling him toward her chest, she removed his doublet, then remained still as he spread kisses down her neck and against her gown. He quickly unbuttoned her bodice even as she unbuttoned his shirt. He held her upright and she sat directly on his lap, with only his loose breeches separating them. Instinctively she wanted to rub against the hard ridge of him there.