How to Live Indecently

by Bronwyn Scott

  She had no adequate response. She let him drive, enjoying the silence and the quiet delight of resting her head against him. They were back in the west end nearing St. James. Gambling establishments and gentlemen’s clubs were still filled with light.

  “You pick our next adventure, Daphne. What have you always wanted to do?”

  “We can’t do it.”

  “Why? Nothing is impossible. Tell me what it is and I’ll see it done.” Jamie sounded supremely confident. And why shouldn’t he? The evening had been made to his order.

  “I want to climb St. Paul’s and watch the sunrise, but we have to be back long before then.”

  “Unless we can get the sun to rise earlier.” Jamie mused. “Barring that, what else is on your list?”

  “That!” She pointed rather suddenly to a space off to his left.

  “Green Park? Your great dream is to go to Green Park? It’s open every day, you know. In fact, it’s open now for those who are intrepid enough.”

  “No, no, no, not the park itself. I want to go swimming in the Tyburn Pool.”

  “You do understand it’s been fenced off?” Jamie asked.

  “Yes, and it makes me mad. The model yachters had to move to the Serpentine and now no one can go wading or anything.”

  Jamie shot her a bemused look. “It’s only a fence. It can be climbed. A swim wouldn’t be a bad idea. We can get the smell of the Coal Hole off us.”

  “Then what are we waiting for? Tyburn Pool it is.”

  “This time of night, the park is relatively safe. Thugs have gone home to sleep and duelists won’t show up until sunrise.” Jamie tooled the carriage along the path toward the pool.

  “Duellists? You’re joking.”

  “Oh, no, my dear, I never joke about duels.” Jamie found a spot close to the pool and parked the phaeton.

  “Have you been in one?”

  “What a leading question.” Jamie tsked playfully, helping her down. “But yes, only as a second. A friend of mine was called out for some nonsense over cards.”

  Jamie surveyed the fence, which was middling in height and made out of wrought-iron spokes. He’d be able to hoist himself up with no trouble. Daphne might be difficult. He turned to find her gone. She’d been standing right beside him. He knew a moment’s fear. She was gone, vanished into the night.

  “Daphne!”

  “Over here.”

  Jamie looked around in the darkness and made out a figure standing fifty feet away. He grabbed a lantern from one of the hooks on the phaeton and carried it toward her. “What in the world are you doing? I thought I’d lost you.” He couldn’t see a thing beyond the sphere of the lantern’s power.

  “While you were contemplating how to get over the fence, I found a gate,” Daphne said with a smug little smile on her face. She swung the gate open and they went inside.

  Daphne bent and tentatively dabbled a hand in the water. “It’s cold.”

  “I prefer ‘bracing’ to ‘cold.’” Jamie hung up the lantern on a fence spike and started removing his shoes and stockings. “Be careful with your hair. We’ll never get it dried in time if it gets wet.”

  He helped her with her gown, careful to hang it on the fence. “The night air should help get the smoke from the Coal Hole off it,” Jamie explained while he laid the dress out.

  “You think of everything.” Daphne smiled in admiration.

  “That’s why I don’t get caught.” Jamie waggled his dark brows. Then he paused and took on a look of extreme seriousness.

  “What?” there was a tinge of panic to her voice. “Is someone coming?”

  “This will not do.” Jamie shook his head. “You can’t swim in your chemise. We’ll need it afterward. There’s nothing for it. You’ll have to take it off.”

  For the first time that night, she seemed genuinely stymied. Out of reflex her hands moved to cover herself over her chemise. “B-but I can’t swim without anything on,” she protested with a little stammer.

  “Why ever not? I’ll be in my altogether too,” Jamie cajoled, sensing real hesitation. He gave a wry grin. “It’s not the first time we’ve been nude together, and that turned out all right.” According to a certain part of him, this was turning out all right too. He was naked and growing in obvious proportions right in front of her.

  “But this is different. We’re outdoors! Anyone could walk by.”

  “At three in the morning?” If he didn’t get in the water very soon, there were going to be consequences. Jamie held out his hand, all teasing gone. “Come swim naked with me, Daphne. I promise it will be an adventure to tell your grandchildren about. You can scandalize them with the night ‘Grandmother Daff swam naked with a gentleman in the Tyburn Pool.’

  Chapter Nine

  Swimming naked in a public pool was truly the most wicked thing she’d ever done, a perfect finale to an evening of new experiences. It was also the coldest, but once Daphne got moving the bite of the water ebbed. It also helped that she spent the majority of the time in Jamie’s arms, kissing and laughing and occasionally splashing.

  “There’s a pond not far from my home in the country that’s ideal for summer swimming. My sister met her husband there.” Jamie smiled as he said it.

  Daphne twined her arms about his neck. “Tell me. It sounds like a delightful story. Is her husband a selkie?”

  “Just about. He’d live in the water if he could. The first time my sister saw him he was swimming there naked. Now they’re happily married and parents to twin daughters.”

  More details without names, Daphne thought. It was a fine story and because it was something more about Jamie, she would treasure it even as she abhorred the absence of the specifics. For all they’d done tonight, he was still being careful, still abiding by the code they’d laid down earlier. But so was she. There was much in her heart she wanted to tell him, but their rule forbade it and they were running out of time unless…unless she decided to break this rule too.

  Jamie scooped her up in his arms and carried her to shore where they’d laid down John Rhodes’s blanket. The blanket was wide and they were able to pull one half of it over them for warmth. Jamie’s body cocooned hers, her buttocks nestled against his groin, his arm about her. She would happily stay that way forever, locked in the intimacy of his embrace. In spite of the cold, she could feel him stirring to life and she smiled.

  “Can I do for you what you did for me?” Daphne ventured. Surely something similar must be possible.

  “Yes. You can put your hand there and stroke it. Only if you want to, though. Some women don’t prefer it.”

  Always the gentleman, but she could hear the want in Jamie’s voice, the desire for it and she wanted to do it, wanted to be with him one last time. She knew too they couldn’t risk another bout of lovemaking, to force Jamie to assume all responsibility for pulling out on time while in the throes of passion.

  Daphne rolled to face him, gliding her hand along the length of him, feeling him harden. She repeated the journey up and down his length, her grip firm, her stroke coming faster as Jamie gave a harsh groan of satisfaction nearly reached. She reveled in the power and the pleasure of this intimate act, the thrill of feeling him pulse beneath her hand before his seed spent itself on his stomach. Daphne watched the process in amazement. This was what happened when a man came inside a woman. She’d felt as if she’d been initiated into the great secrets of the universe. Next to her, Jamie sighed, a lazy smile on his lips. She bent and kissed him. “Thank you.”

  “I’m the one who should be thanking you.” He laughed and sat up, rummaging in his coat pocket for a handkerchief.

  “Really, I didn’t know.” Words to describe what she’d witnessed, experienced with him were entirely inadequate. “I haven’t the vocabulary for this although there apparently is one.” Jamie set aside his handkerchief and took both her hands in his. “What will you do when we get back?”

  “I will do my duty, maybe not with the gentleman my mother intended for me
to meet tonight, but with the next one.”

  Jamie’s jaw set with tension and Daphne rushed on, a hand to his lips. He was going to make a stupid offer. “Don’t you dare say you’ll offer me money or set me up in a little cottage. It will only discredit our adventure to think you paid me in the end. I don’t have a price, Jamie.”

  He nodded his head in terse consent. She understood: he didn’t like the conditions, but he’d allow them. “Just as long as doing your duty won’t be with the man who took you by force.”

  She looked down at their hands where they joined, unable to meet Jamie’s eyes. “How did you know about that? It was years ago.”

  “You weren’t a virgin and yet much of what we’ve done together has been new to you. Then there was the knife.” Jamie’s voice was quiet, his facts simple. “Tell me, Daphne.”

  “I was eighteen when it happened. My family couldn’t afford a London Season for me, but I had a small country coming-out and there was an older gentleman who thought I would never refuse him. He offered for me afterward, sure he’d be accepted.” She glanced up and gave Jamie a tiny smile. “But he wasn’t. Our circumstances were not as difficult as they are now and my family felt I didn’t have to marry the first man who came along. They felt sure there would be other offers, perhaps even better offers.”

  Jamie’s grip had tightened on her hands. “He was no gentleman, no matter what his birth.”

  “No, but society hardly looks that closely.” Daphne tossed her hair. “I survived and I promised myself I would not let the episode ruin me and it hasn’t. If anything, it has made me stronger, more determined. Now, what about you? What will you do when we go back?”

  Jamie gave a rueful grin. “Like you, I’ll do my duty.”

  Chapter Ten

  In the end, they’d had to hurry. The London streets were stirring with the sounds of morning, and the darkness that had chaperoned their adventure bore hints of gray. It would be another hour or two before sunrise was in clear evidence, but it was coming. Domestics who didn’t live in-house were already bustling to their posts to lay fires for their masters and start the morning breakfast. The milkmaids were out with milk fresh from the farms outside the city and the early market vendors were pulling their hand carts full of vegetables and produce through the empty streets.

  Ahead of them loomed the Folkestone town house. Daphne felt a wave of relief flood her. Light still blazed and a respectable amount of carriages still lined the street, proof that Jamie had indeed been right about the gala’s longevity.

  “So far, so good,” Daphne whispered.

  “After everything, you’re still worried we’ll be caught?” Jamie chuckled, turning the carriage into the alley that led to the back of the town house. “I have not come this far to get nabbed upon my return.”

  “Do you think your friend Riordan managed?”

  “More than managed. After we left, he went upstairs and got an evening coat out of my wardrobe, grabbed a stickpin that is most decidedly mine to poke in his cravat and maybe even some other accoutrements that are definitely mine. You remember he has dark hair? At a distance or on a crowded dance floor he could pass for me, especially if he was wearing one of my coats.”

  “And his dance partners? I recall you gave him your dance card. Surely up close, they’ll know it’s not you.”

  “Only if they’d ever met me. Most of them hadn’t. I didn’t recognize a single name on my card. If they know me, Riordan will make up an excuse—I was detained somehow with a hostlike emergency and he’s standing in. If they don’t know me, they won’t know the difference.”

  “That’s terrible though for those girls.”

  Jamie shrugged. “Not really, Riordan’s a good dancer and quite a charmer with the ladies.”

  “But they’ll think they’re dancing with you.”

  Jamie halted the team in the back alley next to the garden gate, his voice low and serious. “Daphne, the women on my dance card don’t care if they’re dancing with me, only my consequence. I ceased being a man to most of my dance partners quite a while ago.”

  Daphne let the statement digest in small pieces. It was positively unbelievable. How could a woman ignore all that he was? Cast aside the vibrancy, the sheer fun of him as if it was of no real import? This was a man who sashayed up and down tables, who danced like a gypsy, swam naked in pools, discoursed about ancient Egyptian artifacts as well as any Oxford don and made love with unrivaled passion. Who would not want that man? Who would dare to overlook that man in lieu of an inheritance, no matter its size?

  “It is their extreme loss.” Daphne said in the quiet that had grown up between them. “You are an extraordinary man.”

  “Thank you for that.”

  “We’d better go in before it’s over.” Daphne swallowed hard. This was it; the end of the adventure and the beginning of duty. Stalling would not delay the inevitable. Eight hours had seemed like a lifetime, an infinity of freedom. Now it was up, the sand in the hourglass having run its course.

  Jamie drew a deep breath and hopped down, rattling off a stream of instructions as he helped her down. “I’ll get the gate latch for you. You go in first through the garden. There’ll be no one out there this time of night. If there is, you can tell them you’re looking for an earbob you’ve dropped. I’ll take care of the rig. Find Riordan and let him know we’re back. If possible, dance with him, let yourself be seen. Remember, if we meet inside, it has to be as if we’ve never met.” There was no admonition in the instruction only regret that it had to be that way.

  “Enough, Jamie,” she scolded in a whisper. It was time to say goodbye.

  His hands remained at her waist. Neither of them moved. Nothing ends, Daphne thought, until I walk through that gate. She reached a hand to his cheek, to touch him one last time. He covered her hand with his, turning his lips to kiss her palm. “Promise me you won’t forget tonight. Promise me you’ll remember what life can be like outside of duty and obligation. Don’t let anyone take this adventure from you.”

  Her eyes started to burn. Damn it, he was going to make her cry. “I could never forget you, Jamie.” She stepped back, determined to walk through the gate before tears ruined her cheeks, but he held her hand, unwilling to let her go.

  “Daphne, do you think it’s possible to fall in love in one night?”

  She smiled softly, allowing a single tear to drop. “Yes, I absolutely do.” She felt his hand squeeze her one last time then the gate shut and he was gone, taking part of her soul with him. She would never be the same and she didn’t begrudge that realization one bit.

  * * *

  It was as if he’d never left. Jamie stepped into the ballroom. Dancers still danced, people still wandered the sidelines chatting and champagne still flowed. Perhaps he should take a night off more often. But then he sighted the whirl of a blue skirt on the dance floor in the arms of a dark-haired man and he knew nothing could be the same. He had left. He had spent an amazing evening with an amazing woman. He could not slip back into the ballroom and simply pretend otherwise, nor did he want to. Watching her disappear through the gate had been gut wrenching. He had let her go and for what? For this? He absolutely hated watching her dance with Riordan. She should be dancing with him. Jamie took a step forward, but he wasn’t fast enough.

  “Jamie, darling, there you are. I haven’t had a moment’s time to talk with you all night.” His mother. Jamie fought the urge to let his shoulders sag.

  He turned with a polite smile on his face. “Mother, I’ve been busy dancing.”

  “I know.” She was all smiles. “You’ve been a splendid host. Your father and I are so proud.” She bent her dark head toward him confidentially. “The mamas have all been raving about you tonight. Their daughters are in awe. I’ve received several hints that you’d be welcome to call on them in the morning, send some flowers around and all that.”

  Jamie fought back a laugh. He was going to owe Riordan something fierce for this. His friend had outdone h
imself. “I am glad you are pleased.”

  “Are you pleased? Did you take a particular fancy to anyone?” His mother pressed. Jamie knew if it were up to her she’d stop the presses at the Times and have him engaged before breakfast. His mother didn’t wait for his answer. “Oh, there she is at last. It’s one of the girls I wanted you to meet, but she’s been hard to find tonight. She had some difficulty with her stomach or so I hear. She’s spent most of the evening in the retiring room.” His mother made a commiserating gesture and waved over his shoulder. “The dance is ending, let me introduce you.”

  Jamie stifled a groan. He felt as if he’d jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire, a very hot fire. It would be positively hellish to smile and make small talk with another of his mother’s candidates after leaving Daphne at the gate.

  “My dear, allow me to introduce you to my son, Viscount Knole. Knole, this is Sir de Courtenay’s daughter.”

  Jamie turned and froze, the words pleased to make your acquaintance dying most suddenly on his lips.

  * * *

  It all must be as if we’ve never met. Daphne managed a credible curtsy on weak knees. It was him. All along, it was him. He was the man she was supposed to meet. “Jamie” was Viscount Knole, her hostess’s son.

  From the look of him, he was as shocked as she. “Are you feeling better?” Jamie inquired, recovering from his initial surprise.

  “Oh, yes, I am,” Daphne replied. Riordan had explained she’d suffered a bit of a stomach ailment that evening. “The lobster didn’t quite agree with me.”

  “Perhaps you’d prefer oysters. Some people respond to shellfish differently.” Jamie smiled, his brown eyes warm and laughing with his secret joke.

  “I do like a good oyster now and then.”

  “I know it’s late, but might I ask if you’d enjoy a walk in the fresh air?” Jamie raised a dark brow.

  “I would.”

  “Mother, if you’ll excuse us?” He was all polite restraint as he slipped her arm through his and took his leave most properly.