Scandal in Spades

by Wendy Lacapra

  Julia folded her arms. “You mean we will prevail.”

  Farring leaned back, balancing on the back two legs of his chair. “Care to place a wager, Spades?”

  “You’d do well to keep your guineas, Clubs,” Giles replied.

  “Oh, come now,” Farring grinned, “you’ve had all the luck so far. Without a win, I fear the loss of my legendary reputation.”

  “No, no, no!” Julia sidled past Rayne. “That bow is all wrong. This one is far more pliant.”

  “Perhaps,” Rayne said with condescension, “I don’t wish for a pliant bow.”

  Julia narrowed her gaze. “Perhaps I don’t wish to lose. A true team, my lord, labors in harmony.”

  “Yes…just like a team of horses,” Rayne replied. “Those of more experience lead, and those of less, follow.”

  “Oh, pardon me,” Julia said sarcastically. “Your advantage of four—maybe five—years is clearly so vast.”

  Katherine glanced to Giles. He winked and held out his arm.

  “Shall we leave them to their choice?” His lips twitched. “I, for one, could use some refreshment.”

  “Certainly,” she replied.

  They stopped next to a cloth-covered table just a few yards away. Giles poured two glasses of lemonade from a tall pitcher.

  “Don’t be concerned on Rayne’s behalf.” Giles handed her a glass. “Julia is providing but a small measure of what he normally gives.”

  Katherine hummed. “I can just hear the tales Lord Rayne will tell in London.” She lowered her voice to mimic Rayne, “How unfortunate for Markham—one of his sisters is unmarriageable and the other is a reckless hoyden.”

  “Unmarriageable no more,” Giles replied with a slanted grin. “And I can assure you, Rayne is not the type to tell tales.”

  “I hope not.” Katherine raised a brow. “Still, I don’t imagine many people are prepared for Julia.”

  Giles laughed. “She’s quite unique, isn’t she?”

  Katherine bit her lip. “Have I overindulged her outspoken nature?”

  “She’s charming,” Giles sipped and then sighed with satisfaction. “With time and a little polish, she’ll turn every head in London.”

  Katherine tested the lemonade, too. The tartness tingled. She shielded her eyes and studied her sister.

  Julia’s hair was piled high atop her head, making her look far older than her years, but she was leveling her gaze at Rayne with a youthful, undisguised scowl.

  “Julia turning every head in London is my worst fear.”

  “You fear Julia will suffer as you suffered?”

  “I fear,” she confessed, “another Stanley scandal is inevitable.”

  Giles exchanged some unspoken, masculine communication with Markham, who rose from his seat and joined Julia and Rayne.

  “Julia is young.” Katherine exhaled. “Too young.”

  “She is inexperienced, yes,” he agreed, “but a sizable number of ladies are wedded by eighteen. Were you not about her age when you were first betrothed?”

  Yes. Katherine frowned. And after having experienced esteem between equals, she also understood she had made a terrible mistake when she’d gone to her father and told him she wished to wed.

  Giles’s gaze rested on hers, searching and intent.

  “I’d war with Markham if he considered permitting Julia to marry as young as my father did me.”

  “Are you angry at your father, then?” he asked.

  She thought of her father—nervous and scholarly and completely unequal to the task of raising a family after her mother had died. “My father gave me what I wanted. But what one wants and what one needs are often not the same. Although…” she smiled, “it would be churlish to remain angry when I am so happy, now.”

  Giles did not return her smile.

  “Perhaps he was too quick to permit my betrothal,” Katherine continued. “But I understood his reasoning. If I married Septimus, I would remain close enough to Southford to continue to organize his papers and correspondence, as I’d done since my mother’s death. Besides, he knew I had no interest in engaging with the wider world.”

  …mostly because her world had revolved around Septimus.

  “Is it not a parent’s office to do what is best for their child?” Giles asked.

  “Perhaps.” She looked out over the fields toward the folly. “Parents deserve our understanding, I think… At the very least, our kindest interpretation of their faults.”

  The unmistakable whirr of an arrow in flight interrupted Giles’s response. Rayne’s arrow landed with a thud.

  “Right through the center,” Farring said loudly. “May I compliment you on the position you chose?”

  “See?” Rayne looked down at Julia. “Clearly, I chose the better spot.”

  Julia gasped. “You had luck. That was all.”

  “Your turn, Lady Katherine.” Farring cleared his throat. “Might I suggest a pliant bow?”

  Markham snorted.

  “That one,” Katherine nodded toward Farring as she spoke under her breath, “likes to stir up trouble.”

  “Like a cook’s favorite spoon,” Giles replied. “I think I’ll aid his efforts.” He led Katherine back toward the basket of bows. As they passed Julia and Rayne, he called, “You’re very good, Rayne. Perhaps we should call you Circles instead of Diamonds.”

  “Diamonds?” Julia asked. “Why do they call you Diamonds?”

  Giles spoke in Katherine’s ear. “Let him explain that.”

  Katherine ignored the rush caused by Bromton’s baritone whisper. “Why, exactly, is he called Diamonds?”

  “His wealth, of course,” Giles replied.

  “Yes, but Markham implied the names refer to—” Katherine stopped abruptly and blushed.

  “And so they do.” Giles lowered his voice. “Rayne lavishes expensive gifts on his lovers.”

  She glanced at Julia. “If I’d known, I never would have allowed her to be on his team.”

  “You needn’t worry,” Giles replied. “He’s always chosen paramours of experience. Julia’s behavior bears all the telltale signs of harmless, youthful adoration.”

  “Adoration?” Katherine scrunched up her nose. “Julia loathes him.”

  Giles shrugged, unconvinced. “No matter how she feels, I can assure you Rayne will not expose her to anything improper. If he did, he would have me to answer to.” Giles straightened his waistcoat. “I will not allow any harm to come to Julia. That, my dear, is a promise.”

  Katherine raised her brows. “You’ve honestly come to care for Julia?”

  “Of course,” Giles replied. “I’ve never had a sister before. I find I quite like the idea.”

  “What of Lord Rayne’s sister?” Katherine asked carefully.

  Giles held his breath for a moment, looking into her eyes. “There is esteem between Lady Clarissa and me, nothing more. And there never has been anything more.”

  Katherine exhaled, and nodded.

  “Julia…” Giles called, while still holding Katherine’s gaze, “I’ve just been informing your sister how much I’m going to enjoy being part of this family.”

  “Best of luck.” Markham snorted. “This family is a grave responsibility.”

  Farring pushed up his glasses. “As my father says, an honorable man is beholden to his family, as a tenant to a lord, and a lord to a tenant.”

  “Would you agree with that statement?” Rayne directed his question to Bromton.

  A subtle tension tightened Giles’s features. “Anyone who recklessly pursues self-interest would lose my respect, of course. To deny fealty to the social order is the very definition of decay.”

  “The very definition of decay?” Katherine blinked.

  “A strong stance.” Rayne held Giles’s gaze with a dead-eye stare. “And surprising, too, considering your recent break with…tradition.”

  “Decay,” Katherine repeated with a frown. “If that is what you believe, I am surprised you approved of your moth
er’s marriage.”

  Slowly, Giles turned away from Rayne. “Yet,” he said after a long time, “she is married, is she not?”

  “Well,” she replied. “I am heartily glad you made an exception. Men rarely understand a woman’s position.”

  Giles visibly swallowed. “How do you mean?”

  Katherine explained, “We care for a home—our father’s, our brother’s, our husband’s—knowing that home is not really ours. Knowing any change in circumstance could force us from our very beds. After all those years of caring for the Bromton estate, I imagine having something of her own is a comfort to your mother.”

  “A comfort…” Giles echoed, gaze unreadable.

  Farring cleared his throat. “Shall we resume the game? Your turn, I believe, Lady Katherine.”

  Lining up her shot proved difficult. Apprehension coursed through her veins. Something was not right.

  She aimed and then let her arrow fly. It hit the target, though its tail waved wildly.

  “Difficult to judge,” Farring called. “It landed on the cusp.”

  “Call it red,” Bromton answered, referring to the center of the target.

  “You needn’t give me a handicap,” Katherine said.

  “I’m not,” Giles said.

  “Has the opposing team any objection?” asked Farring.

  “None,” called Julia. “Perhaps having a woman answer for you rankles, Lord Rayne?”

  “I have no objection,” Rayne gritted.

  “Red it is,” Markham said.

  “If I’d have known your elder sister was such a fine shot,” Rayne said to Markham, “I would have chosen her as my partner.”

  Katherine sensed, but could not untangle, the conversation’s underlying threads. “I’m quite satisfied to compete with Lord Bromton. He’s very good.”

  “I’m not,” Giles replied without looking away. “But knowing I’m not good has never stopped me.”

  “My turn.” Julia smiled sweetly at Rayne.

  Another quick thud followed.

  “Right in the center,” Farring recorded. “What a fine markswoman you are, Lady Julia. Isn’t she, Rayne?”

  Julia lifted her chin, swept back her skirts, and brushed past Rayne as if she were giving him the cut direct.

  “Oh dear,” Katherine said.

  “I told you,” Giles whispered. “I will protect Julia.”

  Katherine forced a smile.

  “Two more days,” he continued, “and you will be my lady wife.” He lowered his voice. “I am counting the hours.”

  Birds chirped overhead and wind rustled through the leaves of the trees. The scent of grass filled the air, and Katherine’s skin warmed from the caress of the sun.

  Still, her disquiet lingered.

  Giles grasped the arrow between his fingers and stretched back the taut string. His shot landed dead center.

  …

  Giles reached the balcony landing of the upper floor and glanced back down toward the library. He’d declined Markham’s invitation to play billiards, as had Rayne. Now would have been the perfect time to confront Rayne about his pointed behavior. He considered, and decided against, returning belowstairs. The day after tomorrow he’d be wed. Rayne would grow accustomed to Katherine with time. Best to let sleeping dogs lie, lest he—or Rayne—say something they would later regret.

  “Giles?” Katherine’s low call wafted through the dark corridor.

  “Katherine,” he whispered, “what are you doing out here?”

  She stepped from the shadows, and he vibrated like a plucked string. Her unbound hair fell about her shoulders, an unintentional, but nonetheless tempting, invitation. The ruffles of her simple dressing gown peeked open as they cascaded toward the floor, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her shift.

  Shameful anticipation seized his groin.

  Not yet. He gritted his teeth. He would be a gentleman. He absolutely would. Two more nights.

  “I—I have something I’d like to discuss,” she said. “Is Lord Rayne still in the library?”

  “Yes.”

  “We must meet in your bedchamber, then.”

  If she had any idea what the word “bedchamber” did to his anatomy, she would flee in the opposite direction. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. Or, perhaps not. St. George, how he’d like to taste those lips as he lowered her onto his bed.

  “Katherine,” he cleared his throat, “I do not think…”

  “Please.” She placed a small, warm palm against his chest.

  “Hellion,” his eyes dropped to her hand, “you court danger.”

  Less than forty-eight hours. Thank heavens for the custom of early morning weddings.

  Downstairs, a floorboard creaked. “Oh no.” Rayne’s words, though whispered, carried up the stairwell. “You are going back upstairs. Now.”

  Giles grabbed Katherine in his arms and swirled in a silent, backward dance toward the wall. He slid his hand along the paneling. His fingers met iron, and, with a flick of his thumb, he swung open the panel. They stumbled sideways into the priest hole as Rayne’s footsteps sounded on the stair. Silently, Giles pulled the panel closed. Katherine’s breasts flattened against his chest, and her soft breath tickled his ear.

  Every breath she took forced an exhale of his own, and their positions did nothing to calm his raging cockstand.

  “How did you know about the priest hole?” Katherine demanded in a fierce whisper.

  “Julia.” He commanded the panting beast of his body to heel. “I remember it being larger, though.”

  “There is room for two, if you enter one at a time!” Katherine expelled a breath. “You’ve wedged us in.”

  “Where we must stay,” he said. “Unless you wish to be discovered.”

  Outside the paneling, the voices grew louder.

  “I’m surprised you’d run from a woman, Rayne.”

  Julia?

  “You,” Rayne said in a low, harsh tone, “are not a woman. You are a girl—a reckless little hoyden of a girl, if you ask me.”

  “I’m not a girl!” Julia replied with deep offense. “I am an eighteen-year-old woman!”

  “Even if you are eighteen,” Rayne scoffed, “I’ve a half decade more experience, which is more than enough to know I do not wish to be caught alone with a bothersome minx.” Rayne’s voice fell. “And I was not running.”

  “Of course, you weren’t,” Julia replied. “Enlighten me, my lord. What would you call the brisk pace you used to bolt from the library? A saunter?”

  “Do be sensible and go to bed, Lady Julia,” Rayne replied. “Someone could hear you.”

  “I long for them to hear me. I’d love to hear you explain why you are pushing me up the stairwell. You shouldn’t even be touching me, Rayne. I’m only wearing a dressing gown.”

  “You are mad, Julia. Stark-raving mad.”

  “On the contrary,” Julia replied cheerfully. “I am entirely reasonable when dealt with reasonably.”

  Rayne exhaled, swift and sharp. “Do you know what would happen if anyone found us together?”

  “Fate, I hope.”

  A shocked wheeze escaped Katherine’s lips.

  “What was that?” Rayne hissed.

  Giles placed his mouth over Katherine’s in a silent kiss. To keep her quiet, of course. But no matter how noiseless, their swift kiss was as exhilarating as it had been expedient.

  Begrudgingly, he ripped his lips away, forcing his other parts to remain still.

  Breathing as one, they waited for sound. Katherine’s breath made gooseflesh of his neck.

  After a moment, Rayne continued, “All right, you confounding minx. I told you to go to bed.”

  “I waited an age for Lord Bromton to retire.” Julia’s voice grew husky. “I know you want what I want.”

  “Oh God,” Katherine spoke into Giles’s ear.

  “You have no idea what I want,” Rayne replied.

  “Oh, but I do, and I believe I’ve made my desires perfe
ctly clear.” Fabric rustled. “I’m merely asking for a trifle. Hardly anything to a man like you.”

  Rayne made a wheezing sort of sound. “I said no.”

  Katherine made a motion toward the door, but Giles’s arm shot out, blocking the panel.

  “If you open this door,” he spoke directly into her ear, “Markham will be honor-bound to force them together. Do you want that?”

  Katherine’s hair tickled his cheek as she shook her head no. Lord help him, if Rayne didn’t resolve this soon, Giles was going to implode. He adjusted his hips and felt, rather than heard, Katherine’s silent whimper.

  Outside the panel, Julia huffed. “Well then, you leave me no choice. I will just have to ask Farring.”

  “You will not ask Farring!”

  “Honestly, Rayne,” Julia said. “Asking Bromton would be beyond the pale. My sister is quite enthralled.”

  Katherine rested her forehead against his chin. He rubbed his thumb reassuringly along her spine. Enthralled? He rather liked the idea.

  Of course, before he could question her on the matter, he was going to have to throttle Rayne.

  “It will have to be either you or Farring,” Julia sighed. “As a matter of fact, I do believe I prefer Farring. He has a divine laugh. Yes, I think—oof!”

  “You won’t ask Farring.” Rayne’s voice held a dangerous edge. “You certainly won’t ask Bromton. And you will not—I mean this—”

  Julia let out a genuine gasp.

  “Ask anyone else.”

  “Such prowess,” Julia recovered enough to coo, “is entirely unnecessary. It is you I wanted all along. And if you hadn’t been so terribly troublesome, I would not have had to take such drastic measures.”

  Rayne made a very low, very male noise in his throat. Fabric rustled again. Katherine dug her fingers into Giles’s shoulders.

  Giles imagined wrapping his hands around Rayne’s throat in more and more detail with each little mew of pleasure Julia expelled.

  Rayne would stop this. Of course, he would. No matter how angry Rayne was, he would not thoroughly compromise an innocent.

  In between what sounded like kisses, Rayne and Julia carried on a murmured conversation too low to hear.

  “I am not negotiating,” Rayne’s voice rose. “You will swear.”

  “Make me believe you mean it, Rayne.”