Scandal of the Season

by Christie Kelley

  “I will fetch you some tea,” he said then walked out of the room.

  Hardy immediately pounced. Sitting in the seat next to her, he said, “What is he about acting like your protector now that you want to leave him?”

  “He may be more difficult to leave than I expected. Please be off before he returns.”

  “Come away with me, Anne,” he whispered. “I’m leaving Wednesday morning. Meet me in the stables at eight.”

  “Go now,” she begged. “I will let you know tomorrow if I can leave with you.”

  “Until tomorrow, then.” He walked away just as Somerton returned with the tea.

  Handing her a cup, he asked, “And how did that go?”

  “How did you want it to go?” she asked and arched a brow at him.

  “Did he proposition you again?”

  She heard the slight tone of jealousy and smiled. “He asked me to go away with him.”

  “Indeed?”

  “Apparently, he is leaving Wednesday morning.”

  “Good work, sweetheart.”

  She stifled a yawn. “I believe I shall retire now.” Rising she looked down at him. “Will you be joining me?”

  Watching the conflict on his face, she wondered why he would be unsure. Was he questioning their future? They had discussed no future arrangements because she knew there could be none. And why would he care? She had no illusions that this relationship would last longer than a week.

  “Yes. I will join you.”

  Anthony pulled Victoria’s naked body closer to him. An odd feeling of contentment filled him as they both recovered from another incredible climax. What was it about this slip of a woman that made him feel so odd? He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this way. If he ever had.

  He could not get enough of her. Yet, he knew he had to give her up in a few days. Maybe that was all there was to this obsession. He’d never had another woman with a time limit. He had to get his fill before he returned her to London.

  Except, he had already made love with her more times than the majority of women in his life. He had never felt an ounce of remorse or regret with any of them. He was being foolish. Nothing had changed in him. He still believed women were only made for sex.

  She rolled over and smiled at him in such a manner that his heart started to pound in his chest.

  “I do believe we may have missed another lovely carol downstairs,” she said.

  “Shall we hurry back down?”

  “No.” She stretched her arm across his chest and laid her head on his shoulder. “I believe I have retired for the night.”

  “Me, too.” He held her tightly to him.

  Gently caressing his arm, she asked, “What is your father like?”

  “What?” Why would she want to know anything about that bastard?

  “Your father? You told me he’d known about your mother being alive, but I was wondering what he is like as a person.”

  Anthony stared at the ceiling. “He was a hard man to live with, Victoria. His expectations of me were very high. I found it easier to leave his house than stay.”

  “How were his expectations high?” she asked then shifted up so she could look at him.

  “He expected me to meet his standard for living. Which he told me included not cavorting with prostitutes, not having a mistress, finding a good respectable woman to marry and give him grandsons. Yet, he visited prostitutes and mistresses when he was married to my mother. She was a good respectable woman, and he couldn’t stay away from other women.”

  “Is that why she left?”

  “Yes. She found out that he’d had a child with an actress. My mother confronted him, and he admitted it without an ounce of guilt. He told her that he’d done his duty and given her a son and a daughter but his needs demanded an outlet.”

  She cupped his cheek. “Was she denying him his marital rights?”

  “No. But he left her in Cheshire while he enjoyed the Season in London every year.”

  “I don’t understand,” she said, rubbing her thumb over his lips. “She was a countess. Why wouldn’t he have brought her to town for the Season?”

  “He was embarrassed by her,” he admitted slowly. “She was from Wales. He married her out of a duty to both families. But he never loved her.”

  “And she loved him?”

  “Very much so.” He closed his eyes to keep her from seeing the pain there. “It almost killed her to leave him and her children. But she wanted revenge. She thought if she left he would chase after her and tell her how much he loved her. But he never did.”

  He opened his eyes to see Victoria brushing away a tear. He brought her to him and kissed her leisurely.

  “That is the saddest story I think I’ve ever heard.”

  “Once she’d left, he did find her, but only to tell her that she could never return to the estate. He cut her off financially too.”

  “How did she survive?”

  He looked away aware that he couldn’t tell her the truth. “She found work. I met her quite by accident the same night you and I had sex.”

  “Yes, you told me that. But whatever happened to the other child?”

  “My sister, Genna?”

  “No, you said your father’s mistress was an actress and she had a child…”

  “What?”

  She stared down at him with her bright blue eyes sparkling in the candlelight. Her finger traced his lips. “I cannot believe I never noticed it before.”

  “Noticed what?”

  “The resemblance. You have the most perfect lips I have ever seen on a person.”

  She could not possibly know the truth. Sophie looked far more like his father than he did.

  “It’s Sophie, isn’t it?”

  “Of course not!” he almost shouted. How the bloody hell had she figured it out?

  “You have the same lips. It makes so much sense now that I think about it. That is why you knew Sophie.” She lay back against the pillows and laughed. “Her mother was an actress and her father an earl.”

  He leaned over her and stared down at her. “You cannot tell a soul about this. Not even Sophie!”

  “I’m not a fool, Somerton. I know she receives money from your father to keep the secret.”

  He kissed her softly again. “I know you aren’t a fool, Victoria.”

  “Good,” she replied then kissed him back.

  He pressed his growing erection against her. “Are we finished discussing my sister now?”

  She rubbed her hip against his hard length. “I think we are.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Victoria waited patiently while the lady’s maid that Hannah had provided finished putting up her hair. Anthony sat in a chair brooding with a frown. Once the maid was finished and gone, Victoria asked the question that had been pressing on her mind for an hour.

  “How am I to treat Hardy this morning?”

  Anthony steepled his fingers in front of his mouth. “I think we have to set up Hardy perfectly.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We have discovered Hardy is definitely lusting after you. He may even want to take you away with him.”

  “So again, how do I treat him?”

  He rose from the chair and walked over to her. “You play the hurt kitten while I play the dominating bastard. I want him to believe there is no chance that you will be able to leave with him. I want him to see me with you at every moment.”

  “Why?”

  “Because if something happens and I do need you to pick his pocket, you will run to him. He will sympathize with you and want to protect you.”

  “You are a very conniving man,” she said, drawing her finger across his jaw.

  He caught her finger and kissed it, slowly drawing it into his warm mouth. Her breath caught.

  “Not conniving,” he finally said. He kissed the palm of her hand. “Just shrewd.”

  It was a fine line between conniving and shrewd, she thought. She turned out of his ar
ms and checked the cheval mirror again. “I believe we should arrive at breakfast separately.”

  “I agree,” he said tightly.

  “What is wrong?”

  “Nothing, just do not go into any room alone with him,” he turned her back to face him. “Do you understand?”

  His intense eyes burned into her. She rather liked his jealous streak. “I understand.”

  Victoria walked out of the room alone and stopped at the top step. With a breath for confidence, she moved down the stairs and made her way to the breakfast room. The room was set up with small round tables for intimate conversations over coffee and tea. Lady Farleigh had decorated the room with holly on the mantel and pine cuttings on each of the tables, which gave the room a fresh scent.

  She noticed Hardy sitting at a table with Lord Brentwood. Hardy gazed at her with hunger in his brown eyes but only gave her a brief nod. Knowing a woman in her supposed circumstances would not sit with them, she walked toward the table where Ancroft sat drinking his morning tea.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Smith,” he said as she sat across from him.

  “Good morning, Lord Ancroft.”

  “You and Somerton retired quite early last night. We missed you,” he said loud enough to get Hardy’s attention.

  “Yes, I was…feeling rather tired.”

  Nicholas gave her a quick smile. “And is Lord Somerton joining us for breakfast?”

  The man seemed to know exactly how to handle this situation. “I would not care to know.”

  She slid a glance toward Hardy who seemed to be ignoring Lord Brentwood and listening intently to her conversation. A large firm hand patted her back.

  “Good girl, Anne,” Somerton said in a patronizing tone. He took the seat next to her. “It is nice to see you have decided to listen to me and sit with a man I trust.”

  “You’re a pig,” she hissed just loud enough that she knew Hardy would hear.

  He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Never say that in public again.”

  Knowing her back was turned toward Hardy, she stuck her tongue out at Somerton. He twitched as if attempting to contain a smile before letting her go. She ate breakfast with her head facing her plate, pretending to ignore the man next to her. Not that she could ever ignore the male scent of him.

  She ate quickly and moved to stand. Somerton’s large hand landed on her wrist.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Lady Farleigh asked for my assistance in the ballroom. With the decorations.”

  “Very well.” He glanced down at his pocket watch. “I want you back in our room by one.”

  “Of course.” She knew it was all a game, still there was something rather exciting about being dominated by him. And she didn’t mind since he had no problems when she took control in their bed.

  He released her hand with a quick wink. Glancing back, she noticed Hardy had already left the room. She had no doubt that she would find him lurking in the hall waiting for her.

  When she turned the corner toward the ballroom, he was there.

  “Are you all right?” he asked with concern lining his voice. “I was worried about you last night.”

  “I was all right,” she said but looked away from him as if trying to hide her true feelings.

  “Did he take you again?”

  Hearing the light ring of excitement to his voice, she replied, “Yes. The man is a pig.”

  “What did he do?”

  She stopped walking and stared at the man. She could not believe the questions he asked of her. Did he want a detailed account of their lovemaking? “I would rather not speak of this.”

  “I am so sorry, Anne.” He attempted to pull her into his arms, but she pushed away.

  “Are you mad? If he catches us again, he will kill you!”

  He leaned in closer to her. “But that is rather exciting, don’t you think? The idea that he might walk in on us while we are making love.”

  “No, I would prefer to never see the man again. But until I return to London I can do nothing.”

  “How can you be certain things will be different in London?”

  If this was in fact a truthful scenario, she had no idea how she could keep Somerton away. “I have friends who will let me stay with them until he finds another woman.”

  “I can handle Somerton,” Hardy stated firmly.

  “No, you cannot,” she replied.

  “I’ll take you to London and find a house for you where you will be safe.”

  “I shall think about it, Mr. Hardy. I must meet Lady Farleigh now,” she said then quickly walked away.

  Anthony watched as Victoria walked from the bedroom to the salon wearing the red silk gown he’d bought for her. He’d known it would look beautiful on her with her pale skin and golden hair, but he never thought she would look like a seductress standing before him. How would he make it through the night watching Hardy when all he wanted to do was stare at her?

  “Does it look all right?” she asked. “It feels a little tighter than when I tried it on before.”

  He smiled noticing that she had put on just a little much needed weight. The woman was still far too thin. “It looks perfect on you. Better than when you tried it on the last time.”

  “Really? I have never worn a gown so low cut.”

  “And that is what is so absolutely perfect about it.” He held out his arm for her. She wrapped her elbow around his and a shock of awareness ran up his arm.

  “I am a little scared,” she admitted while they walked down the steps.

  “You shall do fine. You only have to dance with me tonight.”

  “I meant about this mess with Hardy,” she whispered.

  “There is nothing you have to do. If you see anyone deliver a message to Hardy, come get me. If you can’t find me, then Ancroft.”

  She nodded and proceeded down the stairs, their arms linked together. A little tremor of apprehension rolled over his body. He just had to find the missive and get her out of here safely. But he kept getting these feelings about this job. He hated when that happened because it usually meant something was about to go terribly wrong.

  As they entered the ballroom, Anthony smiled. Hannah had turned the room into a winter carnival. With white festoons covering the ceiling and fluffy white cotton around the edges of the floor. All the tables had fresh greens with red berries on them. But the centerpiece was the large fir tree in the corner near the musicians.

  “Where are the candles for the tree?” he asked.

  Victoria giggled. “Hannah convinced Farleigh not to put them on for the ball. She was terrified that a fire might break out.”

  “She is a sensible woman.” He noticed the pained expression on Victoria’s face. “And a sensible woman who loves her husband.”

  “I know,” she murmured.

  They walked along the edge of the dance floor. Victoria appeared spellbound by the dancers as they performed the steps of a quadrille. Seeing her rapt face, he wished he’d had time to teach her more dances.

  Get your mind off her and back on the mission, he told himself. It didn’t matter if she could only dance a waltz when this was the only time she would have the chance to dance. Once she returned home, she would be back to her routine with the orphans. No more balls or parties for her.

  He forced his gaze off her and to the crowd. Nicholas sent him a quick nod and shrug from across the room. Where the bloody hell was Hardy?

  Finally, he noticed Hardy walk into the room alone. He nodded to a few men and then his gaze went to Victoria. Lord Brentwood stopped in front of Hardy and engaged him in conversation. But Hardy looked around as Brentwood spoke, as if distracted and not interested in the discussion.

  “Hardy keeps looking over at you,” Anthony whispered in her ear.

  “So I have noticed. He looks quite bored with whatever Lord Brentwood is speaking to him about.”

  “I agree. I do wonder if he’s looking for someone, though.”

  “
Perhaps he is,” she said. “I will walk to the refreshment table. See if he continues to keep his eye on me.”

  As much as he wanted to watch her slim hips sway under the silk, he kept his gaze on Hardy. Brentwood finally walked away and Hardy continued to scan the room. Noticing Victoria not at Anthony’s side, Hardy strolled toward the refreshment table.

  Anthony stayed where he was when he noticed Nicholas walking toward the same table. He turned and watched as Nicholas quickly engaged Victoria in conversation. Within a moment, Victoria was back at his side with Nicholas, too.

  “So, I am not to be left alone tonight, am I?” she asked with one brow raised.

  He smiled back at her. “No.”

  “Well, I can see I am not needed here,” Nicholas said and retreated.

  “You don’t trust me?” She sipped her wine slowly.

  “I do trust you.” He took her wineglass and stole a sip of the fruity liquid. “It’s Hardy I don’t trust.”

  “I can’t help you retrieve a message if I can’t be away from you and Lord Ancroft.”

  He loved the way her blue eyes sparkled when she became frustrated. “You are not here to retrieve a message. Only to pretend to be my mistress, remember?”

  “Yes,” she bit out. “I remember.”

  “Good. Now, dance with me.”

  “No, I can’t dance and talk.”

  “But I am done discussing this,” he said calmly.

  “I am not.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “If I cannot help you then why am I even here?”

  There were just so many wrong answers to that question, he thought. And most of them revolved around sex. “I am not willing to risk your well-being. You will do nothing unless I specifically ask you.”

  She blinked and glanced away from him. He knew after hearing about her childhood that she needed to feel safe.

  “Now, shall we dance?”

  “If you think your toes will survive,” she retorted but took his arm anyway.

  “I will survive a little toe mashing.”

  They waited on the edge of the dance floor until the musicians were about to start a waltz. He pulled her close and they glided across the floor. As he danced, he continued to watch for Hardy and finally found him waltzing with Hannah. Knowing she had him occupied for a few moments, Anthony concentrated on dancing with Victoria.