Lady of Scandal

by Tina Gabrielle

  “It’s beautiful,” she whispered, awed by the gift. Raising her eyes to meet his, she searched his face for an answer. “Why? Why would you give me this?”

  “When I first saw it, I was drawn by its emerald beauty, but when I studied it up close, when I touched it, I was enchanted by its fire and its depth and knew I had to possess it, for it had completely captivated me.”

  The double meaning of his words blared like a trumpet inside her head. He alluded to the effect she had on him, not only to the necklace she currently held in her limp hands.

  Entirely caught up in a wave of emotion, she tried desperately to throttle the dizzying currents racing through her.

  “I cannot…” she began, looking down at the jewel in her lap. “Thank you, but you know I cannot accept it.” She snapped the lid shut and handed back the box to him.

  He stopped her in midmotion. “Please. It would give me great pleasure to see you wear it.”

  A frown creased her brow. “But it’s such a lavish gift, and the reason I agreed to come to Rosewood for an entire year is to pay off my family’s debt. It makes no sense for you to give this to me.”

  “It’s your father’s debt, Victoria, not yours. Besides, my motives are not entirely selfless. I receive just as much pleasure from seeing beautiful things on you as you do wearing them.”

  Reaching for the box, he lifted the necklace from the velvet folds and leaned close.

  She raised a hand. “A man would only buy his wife or a kept woman such a costly gift. Despite what you would have my father believe, I’m not your mistress.”

  He arched a brow. “No one is more aware of that fact than I am, my dear. But unlike such a man, I do not expect anything in return. Do you believe me?”

  She did. He had not yet made any sexual demands on her other than a few stolen kisses which she had more than encouraged him to take.

  “I believe you,” she said, “but I’m not certain…”

  “I am.”

  He unhooked the clasp and reached around her neck. His fingers barely grazed her skin, yet her flesh tingled from the contact. Her lids fluttered, and she inhaled his masculine scent. The M-cut collar of his jacket tickled her nose as he leaned forward, and she suppressed the urge to rest her cheek on his shoulder.

  Blake sat back. His eyes clung to hers and then lowered to her neck. “As I thought, the emerald matches your green eyes exactly. Beautiful.”

  She swallowed hard, once again stunned by his sweet flattery. The emerald lay between the valley of her breasts, the gem heavy, yet cool. With trembling fingers, she touched the large stone. “You must stop, you know. It’s madness, really.”

  “What must I stop?”

  “The things you say to me…the way you look at me when you say them…it’s all inappropriate.”

  “I speak the truth.” He reached out to tuck a loose curl behind her ear, and her skin prickled at his touch. “Would you have me lie?”

  “What of the items you’ve already purchased for me? The clothes and accessories. This necklace.”

  “I promise,” he said earnestly, “I expect nothing in return. You can take everything with you when you leave Rosewood.”

  Her heart fell at the finality of his words. Why should she care if he talked about her departure after a year? Isn’t that what she longed for?

  She hesitated, torn by conflicting feelings. “I suppose I could use the necklace when I return home.”

  A flicker of emotion passed over Blake’s face before he hid it with a smile.

  What had she seen? Regret? Disappointment?

  Just then the heavy curtains in the rear of their private box parted, and Lady Samantha and Justin entered.

  “We brought you champagne,” Samantha said, handing Victoria a bubbly flute.

  The baroness sat, adjusted her voluminous skirts and then turned toward Victoria. “Oh, my!” Samantha gasped as her gaze dropped to Victoria’s neck. “How stunning! No wonder you didn’t join us in the lobby.” Her wide blue eyes swung from Victoria to Blake. “What has transpired between you two since our brief fifteen-minute break?”

  Blake gave Lady Samantha an exaggerated wink. “I gave Victoria a gift. Does it not match her green eyes to perfection?”

  Samantha laughed richly. “You charming devil, Ravenspear.”

  Heat stole into Victoria’s face. “I have not yet decided to accept such an expensive gift.”

  “My darling girl,” Samantha said, leaning close to whisper into Victoria’s ear. “Have I not taught you anything? Only an infatuated man would give a woman he has sworn not to coerce into his bed such a costly jewel. You are exceeding my wildest expectations. Of course you will accept it.”

  The lady leaned back, a wicked smile on her face as she turned toward Justin. “I hope you follow Ravenspear’s lead, my love. I’m particularly fond of rubies.”

  Justin kissed the back of her hand. With a twinkle in his eye, he said, “I refuse to be outdone by my rogue employer.”

  Samantha giggled as the curtain rose once more, signaling the start of the second act.

  Victoria sat still through the rest of the play, but this time, she was more entranced by the man by her side and the emerald nestled between her breasts than by the actors on the stage.

  After the play, she sat in the coach listening to Samantha and Justin discuss the performance in animated detail. Victoria stole sideways glimpses at Blake’s rugged profile.

  He was an ever-evolving mystery, an enigma she feared she would never begin to comprehend. A man sworn to destroy her father, yet a man she found irresistibly attractive. A man who had forced her to leave her home and threatened her way of life, yet a man whose consideration, charm and generosity heightened her girlhood fascination to a woman’s obsession.

  She remained unmoving next to him, aware of the heat from his hard body coursing into hers. A war of emotions raged within her. She was unwilling to face him directly, yet unable to turn away completely.

  When she was finally alone in her bedroom at Rosewood, she allowed her false composure to unravel. Sitting at her dressing table, she plucked the pins from her hair and dropped her head in her hands. She massaged her scalp with rigid fingers, hoping to ease the tension that had built inside her skull.

  Totally bewildered at his behavior tonight, a tumble of confused thoughts and feelings assailed her. She felt like a sailor lost at sea, treading water and barely holding his head above the waves.

  For a woman who had always had a plan, had always analyzed things with remarkable detail, Victoria’s swirling emotions paralyzed her to the point where all logical decisions and actions were impossible.

  Chapter 18

  The following morning, Rosewood’s coachman dropped off Victoria at Lady Devon’s country estate. The baroness’s country home was not as large as Rosewood but was still an impressive piece of property, with acres of landscaped grounds and a white stone mansion which boasted twenty bedrooms.

  As soon as Victoria stepped over the entryway, Lady Samantha flew down the curved staircase to greet her.

  “My darling girl, tell me you wore the necklace so I can get a closer look.”

  Taking Victoria’s cloak and tossing it to a servant, Samantha whirled Victoria around by the shoulders and peered at her neck.

  As if on cue, the emerald sparkled in a ray of sunlight that beamed through the windows.

  “Magnificent,” Samantha said, her eyes as round as saucers. “I all but fell off my chair last night when I set eyes on it. I was dying to count the diamonds surrounding the piece, but had to force myself to stay seated.”

  “Ten,” Victoria said, her voice flat, emotionless.

  “Ten what?” Samantha’s brow furrowed in confusion, and her eyes never left the necklace.

  “Diamonds. Ten brilliant diamonds surround the emerald.”

  The gleam of excitement was back in Samantha’s eyes. She reached out to run a finger across the stone’s smooth facets. “It must have cost Ravensp
ear a small fortune.”

  “Exactly. And that’s why I hate it.”

  Samantha’s head snapped up to study Victoria’s face. “You’re upset.” Her shrewd gaze traveled over Victoria’s fatigued features, the dark circles beneath her eyes.

  The baroness took Victoria by the arm and led her through the house. “My butler, Samuel, has arranged tea outside by the gardens. I’ve always believed fresh air helps with anyone’s troubles.”

  Tea service was on a charming patio overlooking immaculately tended lawns as far as the eye could see. Large pots of blooming flowers lined the perimeter of the brick patio, and the air was as fragrant as a heady perfume.

  A cup and saucer were placed before Victoria as she gazed at the chirping birds splashing gaily in the birdbath. She felt a flash of envy at the birds’ carefree display of happiness.

  “I don’t understand him,” Victoria said. “The angry earl that came to my father’s house and threatened to send us all to the poorhouse is not the same man I have lived with for the past two months.”

  “You care for him,” Samantha said matter-of-factly.

  “I don’t want to. I hate myself for it. What kind of woman am I to have feelings for a man bent on ruining my father?”

  Samantha sighed. “A flesh-and-blood woman with a pure heart.”

  “But I desire him. What does that make me?”

  “A better person than me, my darling. If I was in your situation, I would have left my bedroom door ajar a month ago.”

  At Victoria’s scowl, Samantha cocked her head to one side. “Have you ever considered that what Ravenspear says your father has done in the past is true?”

  “No,” Victoria blurted out, but she knew it was a lie. “I suppose,” she mumbled, then finally whispered, “Yes.”

  The truth was she had thought about it incessantly since Blake Mallorey had returned into her life, his youthful smile gone, replaced with a hard man’s bitterness.

  Victoria had witnessed her father in business, had seen his ruthlessness. Hadn’t he been willing to give her to Jacob Hobbs against her wishes, only to turn around and sell her to Blake Mallorey without even a word of apology to her?

  Yes. She had contemplated Blake’s version of the truth. It would explain many things, such as Blake’s honorable behavior since her arrival at Rosewood versus his coldhearted attitude toward her father.

  But could Charles Ashton have sent his former partner, his closest friend, along with an innocent family, to the poorhouse all those years ago?

  Yes, she thought. If there was profit or position in it for him.

  A man clearing his throat drew the women’s attention. Samuel, the butler, stood in the doorway, his stance rigid and his face impassive, as if he had not overheard the topic of the ladies’ conversation.

  “You have a gentleman caller, Lady Devon.” Raising a gold-embossed calling card, Samuel read, “A Mr. Nathan St. Bride awaits in the parlor.”

  “Well, well.” Samantha looked at Victoria. “It seems you made quite an impression at the theater, and eager St. Bride has come to call.”

  Pushing back her chair, Samantha rose and motioned for Victoria. “Come along, darling. We must be sure Ravenspear hears about this visit. I enjoyed the dark scowls he threw Nathan’s way last night as much as you did, I’m sure.”

  As soon as the shock of the butler’s announcement subsided, Victoria jumped to her feet and grasped Lady Samantha’s arm. “Wait! I do not wish to see Mr. St. Bride. What shall I tell him if he inquires further about my circumstances?”

  Victoria was astonished that Nathan St. Bride would be so forward as to call on her when she had made it clear she was not interested.

  Samantha patted her hand reassuringly. “You have nothing to worry about. He already believes you are my guest, and it’s quite convenient that you are presently under my roof. We need not make excuses regarding your whereabouts. Your reputation is quite secure. Besides, amorous attention from an attractive man is always good for a woman’s self-esteem.”

  But as Victoria followed Samantha through the house, her misgivings increased.

  When they entered the parlor, St. Bride had already taken advantage of the baroness’s hospitality and sat in a leather chair to drink a hefty glass of port despite the early hour.

  He jolted upright when he spotted them, sloshing a good amount of the amber-colored alcohol on his buff-colored trousers. He dabbed at the stain with a kerchief, then straightened his shoulders and cleared his throat.

  “Lady Devon,” he said, bending over her hand. “It has been too long since I paid my neighbor a visit, and seeing you at the theater last night reminded me of my lack of good will.”

  “Oh, nonsense!” Samantha laughed. “You’re here to see my lovely guest, Miss Ashton.”

  St. Bride’s meticulously trimmed mustache twitched in amusement. “Ah, you were always perceptive in matters of the heart, Lady Devon.”

  He turned toward Victoria and smiled. “I confess. I found myself entranced, Miss Ashton, and I wanted to see you again.”

  The strength of his cologne was as overpowering as she had remembered, but now mingled with pungent alcohol, the scent assailed her nostrils.

  Nathan was not an unattractive man—most would consider him handsome in an effeminate way—but the depth of his stare unnerved her and alerted her to tread with care.

  Victoria remained standing, not wanting him to sit and get comfortable. “I’m flattered by your visit, sir.”

  Samantha stepped forward. “Would you like some refreshments other than your port, Mr. St. Bride?”

  “I would love some, Lady Devon.” Nathan smiled, revealing straight, white teeth.

  “No doubt,” Lady Samantha said, a mischievous twinkle in her eye as she turned to leave. “Good help is difficult to find these days, so I’m certain I will be a while,” she announced over her shoulder.

  Don’t leave us alone! Victoria wanted to cry out, but the baroness had already departed. No doubt Samantha’s intentions were to inflate Victoria’s self-worth by putting her in the same room with the smitten man. Samantha may even have Ravenspear learn of the encounter with the hope that Blake would become jealous. Either way, every fiber in Victoria’s body warned her against Nathan St. Bride, and she regretted flirting with him.

  He stepped closer and touched her hand. “Your hostess is very generous to allow us time alone together.”

  Victoria resisted the urge to snatch her hand from his, and instead pulled away politely. “I do not wish to mislead you, Mr. St. Bride. But as I told you last night, my time as Lady Devon’s guest is limited.”

  He laughed softly and took a step closer. “Now, now, Miss Ashton. There’s no need to continue the charade when we are alone.”

  Victoria felt a stab of annoyance at his forthright behavior. “Whatever do you mean, sir?”

  “Don’t be coy, Victoria. I saw the way the earl looked at you at the theater, the way his hand lingered at your waist under the guise of escorting you to your seat. Such intimacy between a man and woman cannot be feigned.”

  Her shock yielded quickly to fury. “You’re out of place to speak so inappropriately.” She stepped back until her thighs brushed the settee. Unwilling to sit with him towering above her, she raised her chin in defiance. “There is nothing between the earl and me but friendship. You have an overactive imagination to believe otherwise.”

  Nathan continued to advance, causing Victoria to bend backward at a precarious angle. Her arm flailed for support, grasping the back of the settee.

  “Mr. St. Bride!” she protested indignantly.

  He leaned forward, his expression lustful. “An overactive imagination?” He shook his head curtly. “I don’t think so. I know that I did not conjure up Ravenspear’s possessiveness toward you. But at the present, with you so close, my imagination is running wild.”

  With a large hand against her shoulder, he pushed her down onto the couch and was on top of her in an instant. He pressed his
lips against her ear as he leaned his weight upon her. “How did a man with such a sordid past get a mistress as beautiful as you?”

  “How dare you!” Victoria screeched. She struggled violently, beating against his chest, but he was not to be dissuaded.

  He pushed her deeper into the cushions. “Don’t worry,” he rasped. “Ravenspear never need find out.”

  “Get off me!” she demanded.

  “Quiet,” he admonished. “I must have a taste, sweet Victoria. I can’t control myself. Surely if you’re so generous with Ravenspear, you can spare me a scrap of affection.”

  He smothered her lips with his in a forceful kiss as he moved his hands downward from her bare shoulders to the rounded neckline of her gown. Squeezing her breasts roughly through the thin silk fabric, he plunged his hand beneath to pinch a tender nipple.

  Victoria squirmed and bucked beneath him and opened her mouth to scream, but his cruel mouth smothered her cry. His mustache scraped against her sensitive skin a moment before he bit down on her lower lip.

  A sharp pain pierced her lip, and the metallic taste of her own blood filled her mouth. Panic engulfed her, and she knew she had to alert Samantha or another to come to her aid. When St. Bride laid his full weight upon her and continued to stifle her cries with his mouth, she felt as if her breath was cut off and feared passing out.

  Suddenly St. Bride was seized from behind and ripped off her, and he yowled in protest.

  Blake’s face was a glowering mask of rage as he threw St. Bride across the room.

  The man landed hard on his backside against an oak bookcase, toppling leather-bound volumes on his head. The heavy bookcase teetered on its edge until gravity prevailed, and it came crashing down beside St. Bride, causing a cacophonous noise. Clearly dazed, St. Bride struggled fitfully to rise. Blake grasped the back of his collar and threw him headlong toward the door.

  “Out! Before I change my mind and dismember you.”

  St. Bride scrambled to his feet and ran out of the room as if pursued by the Devil himself. His footsteps echoed down the hall, and, seconds later, the front door opened, then slammed shut in his haste to leave.