Scandalous Scoundrels

by Aileen Fish

  He held her in his embrace, knowing there was nothing he could say to cheer her spirits. Only finding the family heirloom would do. Perhaps this was his chance to make amends. He’d been too proud, too haughty to appreciate how badly he’d injured her feelings the other day. Retrieving the necklace would be the best sort of apology, better than his earlier offer of a dance. “When did you notice it was missing?”

  She sniffled. “A short while ago. It fell off in the conservatory, I think. I tried to return to search for it, but didn’t get very far. I wasn’t alone in there.”

  He understood.

  The Hornby conservatory wasn’t the sort of place an innocent girl could handle without proper chaperone. He’d seen her attended earlier by her Aunt Julia, but apparently her aunt had found other distractions to occupy her time. He also suspected that Graelem and Eloise, despite their earlier teasing, must have believed she was still being chaperoned by her aunt or they would have taken up the slack immediately.

  Daisy started to pull out of his arms, but he held her back, reluctant to let her go. She felt nice, he decided, surprised by how perfectly her slight body molded to his gruff contours. Her silky curls tickled his chin and her scent tickled his senses. She smelled of cinnamon and apples, as delicious as a Viennese dessert. “I’ll help you search.”

  Her eyes widened in astonishment. “You will?”

  He ran his thumb gently along her cheek to wipe away the trail of tears. “If you’ll let me.”

  Leaning back to meet his gaze, she let out a long breath and cast him a dazzling smile. “Gladly. Thank you for the offer. I need all the help I can get.”

  “Good. Yes, then. It’s settled.” Reluctantly, he withdrew his hand from her cheek. There was something about her admission that roused his protective instincts. Ian would have called it a dangerous sign, but it wasn’t. He’d survived to the age of twenty-seven by using his wits, by learning to defend himself against all enemies. This pretty slip of a girl wasn’t much of an enemy and hardly a danger to his bachelorhood. “Now let’s retrace your steps. Exactly where were you when you first noticed it was missing?”

  “On my way back to the ballroom. But I’m certain I lost it in the conservatory. Yes, most certainly in the conservatory. You see,” she said with a little hiccup followed by a harrumph. “Lumley Hornby lured me there in order to show me his... well... his...”

  “His what?” he prompted, noting her hesitation.

  “His cucumber!” she cried, her magnificent eyes rounding in horror. “Only it wasn’t a cucumber at all!”

  “Good Lord!” He’d always thought of young Hornby as a harmless twit, but obviously he wasn’t. To expose himself to a respectable girl. No, not even Hornby could be that much of a muff. Hornby? He wasn’t the sort. Was he? Gabriel shook his head, certain that he’d misunderstood her words.

  “And then he wanted me to touch it!”

  What?

  “But I thought it more closely resembled a gherkin, so I refused. I mean, he led me to believe it would be enormous, the sort of thing one couldn’t resist putting one’s hands around and stroking.”

  Gabriel’s jaw dropped open.

  “Only it was this funny sort of twisted thing that hung limp on the end, like this.” She curved her index finger and held it up to his view.

  Did the girl realize what she was saying?

  “I told Lord Lumley that if he thought to impress me by showing me that... that shriveled thing, he’d have to do a better job of it. Reminded me of a gherkin,” she grumbled again. “Then I told him about your cousin, Graelem.”

  “What about Graelem?” Lord, what had his cousin done to involve himself in this imbroglio?

  “Now there’s a man with an enormous cucumber, but he doesn’t go around bragging about it. Why are you looking at me so oddly? Surely you knew Graelem was an avid gardener. His beets and squash won first prize at last year’s Midlands fair. Are you laughing, Gabriel?”

  “No.” Lord help him! The girl was actually speaking of vegetables. Thank the Graces. He’d been angry enough to grab that clunch, Hornby, and stuff his entrails up his skinny arse. He’d still have a private word with the man, for there was no mistaking the suggestive nature of his conversation.

  “Yes, you are. It isn’t funny. Gardening is serious business.”

  Oh, she’d bludgeon him if he revealed what he’d truly been thinking about Hornby’s intentions. He dared not burst out laughing. Ouch! The restraint was killing him. “So you lost the necklace in the conservatory.”

  “I can’t be certain, but I believe so. Do stop grinning. It’s the last place I remember having it.”

  He took her arm and led her out of the library. “We’ll start our search there, but let me go in first to clear the place out. It won’t do to have you seen in there with me.”

  “Very kind of you to think of it. Why are you still grinning?”

  “I didn’t realize I was.”

  ***

  Daisy had the distinct impression that Gabriel was staring at her derriere. Well, she ought to have known better than to reach over the oversized lungwort in order to better sift through the foliage and soil beds. She’d thrown herself off balance and was now tipped forward and fully exposed to his scrutiny. “Would you kindly help me up?”

  Wordlessly he moved behind her, placed his hands on the sides of her waist, and drew her to a standing position. She stifled a groan as her back came to rest against his gloriously solid chest. The room was secluded, dimly lit, and lightly scented by the lilac in bloom.

  His body felt warm against hers, the gentle touch of his hands at her waist, intimate. Now if only Gabriel would miraculously turn into Alexander. She closed her eyes and imagined Alexander turning her to face him, and lowering his heavenly mouth to hers... and seeking her lips for a long, lingering kiss.

  She drew away with a start.

  This was Gabriel!

  Oh, she had to stop thinking about the delicious feel of his body against hers and concentrate instead on finding the necklace. After all, Gabriel would not indulge her very much longer. She’d heard him muttering under his breath, something about being punished for his wicked ways. No doubt he considered her a nuisance and had a hundred reasons to part company with her. Only extreme pity for her situation—or perhaps a sacred promise to Eloise to keep an eye on her so that she wouldn’t make a complete ninny of herself—could be keeping him here.

  Perhaps it was a little of both.

  It certainly wasn’t a desire to kiss her.

  She certainly had no desire to kiss him, even if he did have the nicest lips. They gave a tell-tale twitch at the corners whenever he was about to smile.

  “Wipe the dirt off your hands and put your gloves back on,” he instructed, handing her back the elbow-length, white satin gloves that had been meticulously fashioned to match her gown.

  “But we’re not done searching.”

  “I’ll continue to look through the plants and soil beds. Dirt won’t show up against my black clothing, but there’ll be the devil to pay if you stain your pretty gown.”

  “Do you really think this gown is pretty?” She slid the gloves up her arms but was unable to button the cuffs.

  Gabriel sighed and turned her to face him. “Here, let me help you.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured, allowing him to gently tug the gloves over her elbows and secure the buttons.

  He tweaked her nose. “Keep them clean.”

  She nodded.

  Did he think her pretty, too? He’d said so earlier in the carriage, but she had been distraught and he would have said anything to soothe her.

  She studied him as he began to search. He was in very good shape for a debaucher of women and a general dissolute. Indeed, his body was remarkably well toned. So well, in fact, that he might have been mistaken for a Roman gladiator or other such symbol of masculine perfection.

  She knew from the scent of his fresh breath as he’d leaned close a moment ago that he h
adn’t been drinking. Odd that he should be among the few sober men at the ball. Her host’s son, Lumley Hornby, had imbibed too much—which explained why he’d tried to kiss her tonight. Tom Quigley had tried the same, calling her magnificent and chasing her around the conservatory when she’d realized her necklace was missing and returned alone to search for it the first time.

  Then there had been the gentleman who’d pinched her by the punch bowl in the ballroom. Obviously, no gentleman.

  Only Gabriel had acted with chivalry, which was quite ironic since he had the worst reputation of all. If he was so wicked, why hadn’t he tried to steal a kiss from her?

  Not that she wanted his kiss.

  Still, it was quite insulting that he hadn’t tried.

  She shook her head and silently chided herself for the direction of her thoughts. Hadn’t she learned the dangers of kissing a man? Even though she’d never actually been kissed, just allowed herself to take the blame.

  And endured stiff punishment for it.

  “I think it’s safe to say that the Farthingale heirloom is not among the lungworts,” Gabriel remarked, looking down among the plant beds. “Shall we search by the Cupid’s dart? Perhaps you dropped the pearls there.”

  “No, I never went near them.” He could use a good shot of Cupid’s dart, right in the... no, he was being kind and helpful. It wasn’t his fault that he had a terrible reputation. Well, it was. But even rakehells could be nice at times. Which explained why he hadn’t tried to kiss her yet, assuming he wanted to at all.

  Goodness! She had to stop thinking of Gabriel and kisses.

  He ran a hand distractedly through the golden waves of his hair. “The orange trees?”

  She squelched the urge to reach out and run her fingers through his glorious mane. Instead, she shook her head. “No.”

  “The eucacias?”

  She gave another shake of her head. “No.”

  “The wild hoarhound?”

  She sighed. “Quigley chased me by the orchids. Perhaps we’ll find them there.”

  He quirked an eyebrow. “You mean young Hornby chased you.”

  “No, he tried to kiss me by the cucumbers—”

  Gabriel’s expression immediately darkened. “So, he did try something!”

  She groaned, wishing she had not let that slip. “It was nothing, really. He left when I slapped him... well, perhaps it was more than a slap. I’d curled my fingers into a fist. You see, I accidently bloodied his nose and he was already in ill humor over the gherkin incident.”

  Now, both of his golden eyebrows were sternly arched. “You ought to have told me earlier.”

  She nodded. “I know. I’m sorry. But as I said, his amorous attempt failed and there was no harm done except to him. He was more irritated than hurt, though he let out an alarming howl when I struck him. He claimed to have very weak nasal cavities.”

  Gabriel smothered a cough, although she might have detected a chuckle mixed in as well. But his manner quickly turned serious. “Tell me about Quigley.”

  “Must I?”

  Gabriel took a step forward so that he was now standing quite close. “Yes, Daisy,” he said, sounding quite protective. “You must.”

  Crumpets! She liked that man-seeking-to-defend-his-woman look about him. Clearly, he was not amused by Quigley and meant to do something about it. She wouldn’t allow him, of course. Men brawling over her? Whatever was left of her reputation would be in tatters. “I’ll tell you, but only if you promise not to do anything about him.”

  His scowl warned that he was about to leave right now and pound the truth out of Quigley. She placed a hand on his arm to hold him back, not that he’d made a move toward the door yet, but she was already distressed and could not afford to have him cause a scene. “Quigley was here when I returned and offered to help me, or so I thought, but what he really wanted to do was pull me down behind those eucacias and... is that all men have on their minds?”

  “Some men,” he replied, glancing at her hand, which was still on his forearm. She quickly removed it.

  “Of course,” she continued with a quick intake of breath, “I was forced to strike him over the head with a watering can that happened to be close at hand. He stumbled and let go of me, and that’s how I made my escape.”

  “Very resourceful of you. I could have used you at... er, at my side.”

  When fending off that irate husband, she imagined. However, there was a look in his eyes, a dark, faraway expression that made her think just for a moment that he was noble and heroic and... no, he had spent his years carousing while his brother had gone to war.

  Yet, there was something about him. Something commanding, and at the same time, comforting. He didn’t look like a coward at all.

  “One learns to hold one’s own in a family as large and boisterous as mine,” she said, shaking out of the thought. “I wasn’t in any real danger from either gentleman.”

  She wanted to add that his cousin, Graelem, who was now married to her sister, Laurel, had taught her to shoot and to handle a knife as well as any man. He’d also taught her several tricks of defense, none of which she’d ever use on Gabriel if he decided to kiss her.

  No! She meant Alexander. She’d never use those tricks on Alexander.

  Gabriel furrowed his brow. “Your family ought to have been watching over you tonight.”

  “Yes, well. I’m certain they didn’t mean to neglect me and I don’t hold them responsible. They thought me capable of taking care of myself. Which I was. I dispatched one gentleman with a bloodied nose and the other with a lump on his head.”

  The furrow in Gabriel’s brow deepened.

  She let out a ragged sigh. “Oh, you have such an upright look about you, as though you intend to... please don’t say anything to my parents.”

  “They must be made to understand the consequences of their inattention.”

  “There were no consequences. I defended my reputation quite capably. If you must know, I’m partly to blame. You see, I did something very foolish about a year ago and haven’t quite lived it down.”

  “Daisy—”

  “No, you’ll have to ask Eloise about it, for I’ll say no more.” She turned away and sank onto a nearby bench. “Please, this evening has been a disaster and your exchanging words with those gentlemen or my family will only make matters worse.”

  He followed her, perching his foot on the bench and studying her quite thoroughly while he considered her request. He must have sensed her desolation and decided against adding to her worries, for he finally sighed and said, “Very well. I won’t say a word.”

  “Thank you.”

  His frown returned. “Don’t. I think you’re wrong.”

  “Thank you, anyway. You’ve been the one bright spot in this dismal evening, chivalrous and valiant. My very own dragon-slaying hero. My very own Saint George.”

  He surprised her with a disarming smile that reached his eyes and made them gleam with the luminous warmth of the candles in the wall sconces. “I’ve been called many names before, most of them unmentionable, but never, ever have I been called a saint.”

  “Gabriel, I expected my first ball to be magical and the young men I’d meet to be charming. Instead, they were boors.”

  He let out a chuckle. “Ah, here you thought I was the only boor.”

  His gentle humor endeared him all the more to her. “You’re not at all. In fact, I find you very charming and I’m enjoying your company immensely.”

  “I’m enjoying yours, too,” he admitted softly.

  She let out a bubble of laughter. “We seem to have made great strides since our first encounter.”

  “Indeed.”

  She gazed up at him and her eyes widened at the tender expression she saw on his face. Her heart, already beating wildly, now shot into her throat. “May I ask you a question?”

  “If it’s not too personal,” he teased. “I have very delicate sensibilities.”

  “What were you and Eloise
laughing about earlier in the carriage? I acted so silly, an utter dolt, but—”

  He cupped a hand under her chin and gave it a playful tweak. “The jest was at my expense, not yours. I tried to charm you and you weren’t even listening. I delivered a magnificent apology for my earlier behavior, short, sweet, sincere. Just the perfect balance of humility and contrition. Then I asked, no, begged you to accept my offer of a dance.”

  “You did?”

  He grinned painfully. “And you never heard a word. It was a humbling moment for me. Well deserved, I may add. Daisy, I’m very sorry for what I said about you the other day. I didn’t mean a single word.”

  She felt heat rise in her cheeks. “Truly?”

  “Truly,” he responded, taking her hands into his own.

  A shiver of delight ran up her spine, which she quickly resolved to ignore. “I’m glad.”

  “Good. That’s settled.” He released her abruptly and resumed the search.

  Daisy removed her gloves once more, and after promising to be careful not to dirty her gown and accessories, spent the next moments scouting through the last of the soil beds with him, lifting every pot and searching in, under, and around every leaf. They found a lady’s mirror and an earring under a bench, a man’s glove and a shoe buckle among the ferns, but no sign of the necklace.

  “Does your offer still stand?” she finally asked miserably. “I mean, about the dance. I’d very much like one. It’ll be the only pleasant memory salvaged from this disastrous evening.”

  “Perhaps later. First, let’s find your heirloom.”

  Daisy’s cheeks suffused with heat. She sputtered an apology about not meaning to force him to do anything he did not wish to do, and that he needn’t dance with her ever, or feel compelled out of politeness or by order of Eloise to endure her company.

  “Daisy, I do wish to dance with you. I just assumed our top priority was to find the lost necklace.”

  “It is. It’s just that you’ve been so patient and—”

  “You hate to impose further on my time?”

  “Yes, exactly.”

  “I’ll let you know when you become an imposition. Come here, you have a smudge on your nose.” He drew out his handkerchief and stepped toward the small fish pond to moisten one edge of the fashionable cloth. “I’ll be damned,” he muttered, staring into the water. “I thought you said you looked in here.”