Lady of Scandal

by Tina Gabrielle

  Blake’s face and figure were half-concealed by darkness and half-illuminated by moonlight. He walked stealthily forward until he stood a mere foot away.

  Dressed in black, with the top buttons of his shirt undone, he reminded Victoria of a wild animal stalking its prey.

  “I couldn’t sleep so I came here to relax,” she said. “I shall leave at once so as not to disturb you.”

  She made to brush past him, but he caught her arm.

  “Don’t go. Please.”

  Victoria looked up into dark, compelling eyes. The tentative, almost-imploring tone of his voice surprised her. Her gaze dropped to his fingers holding her arm.

  Releasing his grasp, he asked, “Why couldn’t you sleep?”

  She shrugged. “Sometimes sleep eludes me when I have things on my mind.”

  “What’s on your mind tonight?”

  She ignored the question and pulled her silk wrapper tight around her body as if to shield herself from his penetrating gaze.

  “I shall retire,” she said. “I’m sure I won’t have problems sleeping now, and you may have the music room to yourself.”

  “Nonsense. I interrupted you.”

  “I didn’t hear you enter the room, and you carry no candle.”

  He smiled. “Years in the crop fields of the Indies at night, far away from civilization, taught me how to find my way around without much light. Besides, I’m quite familiar with the layout in my own home.”

  He took a step closer and the moonlight highlighted the handsome features of his face. His distinctive masculine scent filled her senses.

  “You still haven’t answered my question,” he said.

  She studied the lean, sun-bronzed face and wondered what question he referred to. His closeness made her mind spin, leaving her dazed.

  He arched a dark brow. “Well? What’s on your mind?”

  “Nothing of consequence.”

  If the harp was not touching her spine, she would step backward. But she didn’t want to appear the coward, and God forbid he discover his effect on her.

  Reaching into his shirt pocket, he produced her necklace. The gold chain dangled from his fingers, and the small diamond sparkled.

  She bit down hard on her lower lip. “It’s bad sportsmanship for a winner to flaunt his victory.”

  “You misunderstand, Victoria.” He extended his hand, palm upward, offering the jewelry. “I’m returning your necklace.”

  She took a quick breath of utter astonishment. “Why? You won fairly.”

  “I have no need of a ladies’ necklace. It would look ridiculous on me, and I have no one to give it to. Besides, you should not have placed it up for stakes. I never knew you shared your brother’s habit for gambling.”

  “I don’t,” she blurted out, then frowned at her admission.

  He was ruffling her composure. Always one to think things thoroughly through, like she did before choosing a stock to invest in, Victoria found herself acting spontaneously and impulsively around him, and blurting out whatever was on her mind.

  He was maddening.

  She stared at her necklace in his outstretched hand. She wanted to grasp it and run without contemplating the cost of his generous act, but her suspicious nature stopped her.

  He waited, watching her.

  “I don’t understand,” she said.

  Dark blue eyes probed to her very soul. “Because it angered me that you recklessly sought to escape our agreement. And because even if you’d won, I had no intention of letting you go.”

  Her brain was in tumult. She should be outraged that he had led her to believe the wager was good—that she actually had a chance of winning her freedom—but at the same time, she respected his honesty. She had lost the necklace, and he did not have to admit that he never intended to release her had she won.

  And now he was offering to return her jewelry.

  She started to reach for the gem, then hesitated. “What do you want in exchange?”

  “I want only to erase the sad expression from your face. And I want you to be able to sleep soundly in my home.”

  Surprised at the sincerity of his tone, she was speechless.

  “May I?” he asked, holding up the necklace.

  She nodded, and he turned her by her shoulders so that her back faced him. Strong fingers entwined in her hair as he pushed the dark mass to one side.

  He brushed her neck, and she felt a lurch of unwelcome excitement. With his arms around her, he secured the clasp. The diamond felt cool against her suddenly heated flesh. His touch lingered, his thumbs stroking the sensitive skin behind her ear, down the column of her throat.

  She froze as her senses leapt to life. “Ravenspear,” she said, barely above a whisper. “This cannot continue.”

  Leaning down, he whispered in her ear. “Why not?” His teeth grazed her earlobe. “You’re so beautiful.”

  Victoria’s legs weakened, her stomach felt like jelly.

  His finger stroked her cheek, down her jawline.

  Her eyes fluttered close. “We must stop.”

  He laughed. “Who would have thought this is the same woman who followed me as a child and begged me to spend time with her?”

  Turning in his arms, she raised her eyes to his. “That was long ago, my lord. Much has happened since then, and my feelings have changed.”

  “Have they? I believe only that they have grown from a child’s crush to a woman’s desire.”

  “You’re wrong…”

  Blake bent his head, his eyes dropping to her mouth.

  “I don’t think…” She struggled to gather her frazzled thoughts beneath his heated gaze.

  “Shh, my sweet Victoria.” His mouth covered hers.

  Surprisingly gentle and whisper-soft, his lips brushed back and forth as he spoke. “So responsive to my touch.”

  His lips recaptured hers, more demanding this time. His tongue traced the soft fullness of her lower lip, then gently sucked on the sensitive flesh.

  Victoria grasped a fistful of his shirt, kneading the hard slabs of muscle beneath the thin material.

  Was she pushing him away? Or trying to get closer?

  She didn’t know. Her senses reeled, her body ached for his touch.

  “You struggle against the inevitable, my love.” His voice was husky. “Do not deny yourself. Give in to what you need, what you crave.”

  As though his words released her, she allowed his hands to explore the hollows of her back, then clasp her tightly to him. The heat of his body coursed down the entire length of hers.

  Where her thin night rail brushed against his chest, her breasts tingled. Victoria closed her eyes and leaned fully against him.

  “That’s it,” Blake whispered against her ear. “Your body cries out for my touch, for more.”

  He kissed her again, this time more thoroughly, exploring the recesses of her mouth.

  She moaned and squirmed in his arms, rubbing her swollen breasts harder against him.

  “Yes,” he said, hoarsely. “You learn quickly, my beauty. Let me show you more.”

  He opened her wrapper and slid it down her arms. The silk pooled at her feet. She felt his hand cup her breast over her nightgown, then his thumb flick back and forth over her nipple. Pleasure radiated outward from the hardened tip, and she moaned softly.

  “Yesss,” he hissed, as if he knew how sensitive her breasts were to his fondling.

  His thumb dipped beneath the silk bodice to graze the swollen nub. Shivers of delight followed his touch, and she breathed heavily through parted lips.

  “If you like that, you’ll love this.” His head lowered, and his moist breath dampened the sheer fabric covering her breast. Slowly, he sucked the entire crown into his mouth, molding the material to her skin. Peeling down the wet silk, his tongue explored the rosy peak of her breast.

  Her head fell back; she gasped in sweet agony.

  He moved to capture the other breast with his lips and sucked her nipple with tantalizing
possessiveness.

  Passion inched through her veins, heating her thighs and groin.

  His rock-hard thigh pressed at the junction between her legs. She willingly parted her thighs for him, and he pulled her up until she squirmed against him. Delicious sensations radiated from the soft core of her body.

  Her head fell back, her nails buried into his shirtsleeves. “Please,” she whispered.

  He froze suddenly and stepped away, taking his body heat with him. His fists clenched at his sides, his breathing was labored. “I apologize, Victoria. It was not my intention to force myself on you. I only wanted to return your necklace.”

  She looked up at him, her mind cloudy with desire, trying to figure out what he was talking about. She had no wish to back out of his embrace. He had interpreted her eager response as a plea to stop.

  Her senses returned, and as her passion cooled humiliation took its place.

  The night air against the wet bodice of her gown made her shiver. Glancing down, she was shocked to see what his lips and tongue had done. Through the wet silk, her breasts were fuller, her nipples pebble-hard.

  Bending to retrieve the silk wrapper, she was thankful the moonlight hid the extent of her embarrassment. “Thank you for returning my necklace. Good night, my lord.”

  Resisting the urge to look at his face, she fled the music room before he could stop her.

  Chapter 12

  Blake watched Victoria escape the room.

  Cursing beneath his breath, he ran his fingers through his black hair in agitation.

  A battle raged within him. Sexual and vengeful needs combating ruthlessly against the urge of tenderness and protectiveness.

  Seduction had not been his intent this evening. The sad expression on her face after she had lost at whist, the manner in which she had said good night to Lady Samantha and Justin and had excused herself early to retire, had bothered Blake more than he cared to admit.

  So he had sought her out tonight for the sole purpose of returning her necklace.

  But when he saw her, standing before the window in the music room dressed in white silk awash in moonlight, he wanted a taste of her.

  Just a taste.

  But her eager response, the longing in her eyes, her sweet-tasting kisses, had inflamed his passion.

  Damnation.

  He cursed himself for allowing his enemy’s daughter to affect him this way. She turned his insides into chaos. His heart hammered foolishly, and the pit of his stomach churned whenever she was near.

  Where was his cold, cruel logic, his unwavering determination? His thoughts turned to the demise of his family. His father had shot himself in the head and left his family alone to face the horrors of debtors’ prison. Consumption had been rampant in the poorhouse, and his sheltered mother had contracted the disease almost immediately upon entering the prison. And his sister, beautiful, kind Judith, had suffered worst of all in her vain attempts to spare Blake and their mother from further suffering.

  As for Victoria, she was supposed to be a ploy, nothing more. He had to stick to the plan, or all was lost. The chit, no matter how beautiful, or how intelligent, could not interfere with his quest. Justice would be done, even if the cost was high, and even if he lost part of his soul along the way.

  “He insists you stay with him all the time?”

  At the incredulous expression on Lady Samantha’s face, Victoria nodded vigorously.

  “I’m even expected to sit and read in the library as he works at his desk,” Victoria said. “Only when Mr. Woodward needs to speak with Ravenspear am I excused.”

  Samantha leaned back on the settee, settling into the deep-red cushions. “Oh, my. The situation is more serious than I had initially thought. What you’re describing is odd behavior indeed for Ravenspear. I’ve never known him to be so possessive of a woman.”

  Victoria poured tea from the sideboard, handed a cup and saucer to Lady Devon and then sat across her in a wingback chair. “I feel fortunate he allows me to escape his presence long enough each day to have tea with you.”

  Over the course of the past week, Victoria had invited Samantha to Rosewood for daily afternoon tea. It was the only opportunity for Victoria to socialize with a woman, other than the servants, since her arrival at Rosewood a month ago.

  To Victoria’s growing annoyance, the staff idolized their employer and never spoke an ill word about him.

  Victoria needed to learn everything she could about the man Blake had become, and she knew befriending the baroness was an excellent decision.

  Victoria eyed her new friend over the rim of her raised teacup. “He seemed wary when I first told him I had invited you to Rosewood.”

  Samantha’s gentle laugh rippled through the air. “That’s because Ravenspear knows me, and he’s worried what I might tell you.”

  Setting her cup and saucer on an end table with a loud chink, Victoria sat forward and looked at Samantha expectantly. “That other night after dinner, before the men interrupted us in the parlor, you mentioned how a smart woman could turn a man’s desire into more. Into her advantage…”

  Victoria felt her face grow warm just mentioning the subject of male manipulation.

  Samantha’s lips curled into a smile. “Ah. So you do admit Ravenspear finds you desirable.”

  “Desire is not love.”

  “You’re right to say that a man does not have to love a woman to lust after her, but it is unusual that he would bring you to his home to live with him and then insist you spend your days together. His feelings must run deeper than mere desire.”

  “The only reason he has forced me to reside at Rosewood is for retaliation,” Victoria said.

  Samantha leaned forward and clasped Victoria’s hand.

  “Like I said before, a man as wealthy as Ravenspear has numerous means at his disposal to gain revenge.” Her clear blue eyes dropped to Victoria’s neck. “I’ve noticed you’re wearing your lovely necklace. Did he return it after you recklessly gambled it away, or did you have to steal it from him?”

  Victoria’s hand instinctively rose to touch the diamond’s familiar smoothness, and her lips quirked at the thought of anyone stealing anything from Blake. “No, he was gracious enough to give the necklace back.”

  “What did he ask for in return? A kiss perhaps? A nightly visit to his bedchamber?”

  If Victoria had been holding a hand mirror, she was certain she would see that her face was flushed crimson.

  Even after a week of socializing with the outspoken baroness, Victoria still felt awkward openly discussing such topics. Her proper mother would faint if Victoria so much as uttered the word “kiss” or raised the topic of a bachelor’s bedchamber in her presence.

  Yet Victoria knew taking Lady Samantha’s advice and learning from her life experiences were crucial if she was to survive a year in close quarters with a male as powerfully attractive as Blake Mallorey.

  At the stunned look on Victoria’s face, Samantha prompted, “Well? What did he do?”

  “He made his feelings clear, but he has not forced himself upon me.”

  Memories from the night Blake had come upon her in the music room lingered around the edges of her mind. From the recollection alone, her senses leapt to life, and she vividly remembered the moonlight, his masculine scent, the feel of his powerful arms around her, the softness and hardness of his lips on hers, the wet roughness of his tongue on her breast, her nipple…

  Samantha gave her a knowing look. “Ah. There is nothing quite like the first time a virgin is sexually awakened. I’m surprised he has restrained himself thus far.”

  “I don’t want to be awakened, at least not by him. I despise my weakness.”

  Indeed, Victoria had hated herself ever since that night. Still shocked at her own sexual response toward him, she was grateful that he had misinterpreted her plea when she had begged him to continue touching her. He had thought she had pled for him to stop, and if he had not released her, she had no idea what she would have
done, how far she would have gone.

  “Do not be so hard on yourself, my dear. Many a female has nearly swooned when he enters a room.”

  “But I’m not just any girl! I’m not sixteen, but a mature, full-grown and independent woman.” Victoria spoke with her hands, accentuating the annoyance she felt with herself. “I’m a thinker and a planner and I used to consider myself quite intelligent.”

  “But Ravenspear is a very masculine man. Living with a beautiful woman such as you, it is only a matter of time before he knocks on your bedroom door one night.”

  Victoria shook her head decisively. “That will never happen.”

  Samantha arched a well-plucked brow. “How can you be so certain?”

  “He swore not to lure me into his bed, unless I invite him to share it with me.”

  Samantha’s jaw dropped a notch. “Oh, that’s rich! I cannot imagine Ravenspear promising any such thing. Don’t you see, Victoria, how deep his feelings for you are? He must have wanted you badly to agree to such absurd terms.”

  A heaviness centered in Victoria’s chest. “All he wants is to humiliate my father by destroying my reputation.”

  “Then why bring you to his reclusive country estate? Why not flaunt you in London during the height of the Season?”

  Why indeed?

  The same thought had occurred to Victoria many times. The only answer that came to mind was that Blake sought to prolong her father’s misery, give him false hope, before crushing her family name and jeopardizing Charles Ashton’s position on the Treasury Commission.

  “Ravenspear seeks to torment my father for the years he spent in the poorhouse, and for his mother’s and sister’s unfortunate deaths,” Victoria said.

  “Then it makes no sense for him to wait. The sooner the scandal, the faster the retribution. He may want your father to spend sleepless nights worrying about your treatment, but I’m convinced that Ravenspear doesn’t want to hurt you.”

  “I do not trust him. And I despise being so powerless.”

  “Powerless?” Samantha looked astonished. “You make me want to pee! There is nothing more powerful than a beautiful woman.”