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In Pursuit of a Scandalous Lady

Page 4

by Gayle Callen


  “What does that mean?” Elizabeth demanded, eyes going wide. “How did Lord Parkhurst treat you?”

  Susanna pushed her way between them and lowered her voice. “He was alone with her for a quarter of an hour. Mama was practically swooning with excitement.”

  “I hope you told her not to,” Rebecca said crossly. “It means nothing. He may be an earl, but he is the most staid, dull—”

  “Dull?” Susanna pulled her spectacles out of her reticule, donned them, and examined Rebecca as if she were on a dissection table in the professor’s laboratory.

  Rebecca tried to will away her blush without success. “You heard me.”

  “I don’t need my ears, because I have eyes!” Susanna said with force. “I saw the way he looked at you last night. And today he was in a hurry to have you alone.”

  “He is trying to see into my mind, to discover the truth—to win his silly wager.”

  “It’s true, men will do much to prove themselves to other men,” Susanna said.

  Rebecca rolled her eyes and said to Elizabeth, “Now she wants us to remember how much older she is than we are. That she has so much more experience. I have been out of the schoolroom and in Society for some years now. I may have been sick, but that was several years ago—”

  “No, it wasn’t,” Susanna said softly. “You had a fever only a few months past.”

  Rebecca dismissed it, though inside herself she knew the unwelcome reoccurrence had…changed her. “A cold, nothing more. You all simply overreacted.”

  Susanna and Elizabeth exchanged a worried glance.

  “Stop this!” Rebecca said, throwing her hands wide. “Why can you not enjoy yourselves? There is nothing those three men can do to us!”

  “Except reveal it all,” Elizabeth said softly. “If my brother finds out—”

  Rebecca groaned. “He won’t, and neither will ours, if we play this carefully.”

  “But they plan to stalk us!” Susanna said. “I…I didn’t say so earlier, but I saw Mr. Wade.”

  Elizabeth gasped. “Really? He has quite the reputation, and I know ladies have been ruined associating with him!”

  “That is an exaggeration,” Rebecca said, even as she saw Susanna straighten in self-defense. Her sister liked to pretend she was worldly, but she’d withdrawn from men for many years, had pursued her studies and her interests, insisting she was happy. Rebecca hadn’t believed it. And somehow, with their brother’s return and his satisfying marriage, Susanna had realized she might be able to find her own happiness.

  Much as Rebecca didn’t believe in marriage for herself, she suspected that Susanna did. Would this wager turn her away from Society again? Rebecca wouldn’t have it! “Where did you see Mr. Wade?”

  “In the park. I went for a ride after the luncheon.” Susanna hesitated. “I wish you could have gone with me. You know it is not too late to learn to ride.”

  “Please, we’ve had this discussion,” Rebecca said impatiently. “What about Mr. Wade?”

  “Oh…nothing much. I had my sketchbook with me, and he saw it, and insisted he would sit in the park with me.”

  “Did you allow it?” Elizabeth asked, her voice breathless.

  “He was…insistent. But we remained in a very public place,” she added with haste. “I sketched the flowers, and he lay in the grass at my feet. It was…peculiar.”

  “It sounds exciting,” Rebecca said firmly. “He is an eligible man with good family connections. His brother is Viscount Wade.”

  “The viscount is blind,” Elizabeth said, as if imparting important gossip none of them had heard. “He’s a friend of our cousin Daniel, who says he’s so completely normal that—”

  “We’re getting off the subject,” Rebecca said with exasperation.

  “Oh, sorry.” Elizabeth shrugged. “I feel like I can’t even keep my thoughts in order!”

  “I understand the feeling,” Rebecca said heatedly, even as she turned back to Susanna. “Did anything else happen? Did Mr. Wade press you for details about the painting?”

  “Not really. He seemed…enthralled by it all.” Even as she blushed, her gaze focused over Rebecca’s shoulder. “Well, this wager has certainly made the Earl of Parkhurst come out of his cocoon.”

  Rebecca whirled around, peering through the palm fronds. She saw the earl immediately—how could she miss him? Tall and so solid, with evening clothes that only gave him the veneer of civilization, though tailored well to his muscular body. She shivered, almost wishing she weren’t so intrigued.

  But he was even easier to spot because at his side were two equally tall, identical young men, both dark-haired. They moved with coltish strides, all arms and legs and eager eyes.

  “Are those his brothers?” Elizabeth asked.

  “He mentioned them,” Susanna said. “They look as if they’ve never been to a ball before.”

  “Perhaps not,” Rebecca mused. “They’re only eighteen.”

  “Mere infants.” Susanna shook her head on a sigh. “This afternoon, Lord Parkhurst seemed quite exasperated with them. And that attitude seems to have continued.”

  Rebecca watched eagerly as the earl spoke to his brothers, a frown lowering his heavy brows. They weren’t even looking at him, glancing everywhere else—at the women dressed as flamboyantly as peacocks, at the dancers already performing a quadrille in the center of the ballroom.

  “I wonder where their mother is?” Rebecca asked.

  “I do not remember seeing much of her recently, since two of Lord Parkhurst’s sisters have married,” Susanna answered.

  “How many siblings does he have?” Rebecca tried not to sound too eager for information.

  “Just one more sister, not yet out of the schoolroom.”

  “And he’s the eldest, in charge of them all.” Elizabeth shook her head.

  “Overbearing, I imagine,” Rebecca said. “I could tell that last night.”

  “He seemed rather commanding to me.” Susanna eyed her too closely. “And you met him toe to toe.”

  Rebecca shrugged.

  “And enjoyed it,” Susanna continued, her voice mildly accusing.

  “I did, and I don’t regret it. If we are to be stuck in this situation, we must have fun. I am glad you sketched with Mr. Wade and, Elizabeth, I’m happy that Mr. Derby called on you. How many more shopping expeditions can we go on, after all?”

  Both women sighed, and together they all looked back at the main floor.

  “Do you think the other two men will appear?” Susanna asked softly.

  Rebecca grinned. “Of course. They want to win, too. We have to make sure we win.”

  “I have a thought for how we might do that,” Susanna began.

  “Tell us later,” Rebecca said, catching a glimpse of the earl alone, now that his brothers had deserted him.

  “But—”

  Rebecca started to sail out into the crowd, only to have her arm grabbed from behind.

  “Wait!” Elizabeth hissed in her ear.

  Rebecca realized she’d almost run right into Lord Parkhurst’s brothers. They had met up with several other young friends on the edge of the dance floor, too close to their hiding place.

  “I didn’t want you bowling them over,” Elizabeth said in a softer voice.

  “I’ll head toward the musicians on the right,” Rebecca said. “You two go left, as if you’ve just emerged from the hallway beyond. If either of our mothers see us, they won’t think we’re up to something.”

  “They always used to know when we were up to something,” Elizabeth said, smiling at the memories.

  “We may not be girls anymore, but we can still have fun,” Rebecca said with feeling.

  Before them, the group of young men all suddenly guffawed loudly, clapping each other on the back. In their midst, the tall Delane boys, the earl’s brothers, seemed to be holding court. Rebecca didn’t know their names, but that would be useless, because she couldn’t tell them apart.

  “We saw the painting
,” one twin said, elbowing his brother, who snickered.

  There was a gasp from their admiring friends—and from Elizabeth at Rebecca’s back.

  “We cannot be surprised,” Susanna whispered. “Overhearing a discussion between men was how I first heard where the painting was hung. That’s why my plan is necessary. I could tell you about it—”

  “Shh!” Rebecca said.

  One of the young men grumbled, “You’re both only members of the club because your brother is an earl. And who is going to go against his sponsorship?”

  “Stop being so jealous,” one of the Delane brothers said, “or we won’t sponsor you when it’s time.”

  “Can’t it be time soon?” a freckled redhead asked plaintively. “How else will we see the painting?”

  “It’s stunning,” said a Delane twin. “Totally nude—”

  “There is a scarf,” the other said.

  Rebecca was indignantly thinking the same thing—as if the scarf made it somehow more acceptable, she realized, holding back a laugh.

  “She might even be here!” the first twin said. “My brother heard she’s one of the ton. Can you believe that?”

  They all craned their necks, as if a naked woman was about to appear performing the steps of the quadrille.

  The second twin groaned. “She has the pinkest—”

  Susanna clutched her arm and yanked, pulling Rebecca against the wall. “That is enough,” Susanna said. “You know it was never supposed to go this far.”

  “Now don’t panic,” Rebecca said in a soothing voice.

  “Panic?” Elizabeth squeaked. “Did Lord Parkhurst talk about the painting to his brothers?”

  Rebecca inexplicably found herself defending the man. “They’re members, and the painting has been on display for almost a week, or so Susanna overheard. I can’t believe he would have told his brothers about our adventures last night. He is far too staid for that.”

  Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “I don’t think you know enough about him to form an opinion.”

  “He told me himself that he’s never once wanted to be adventurous. How much more dull can one be?”

  Ignoring her, Elizabeth turned to Susanna. “You will tell us your idea later tonight?”

  “Of course,” Susanna said smoothly. “Everything will be all right.”

  Rebecca used their commiseration to slip away. Much as she’d defended the earl, she felt angry and uneasy. After all, she didn’t know him, beyond his possession of a title and wealth, and what the gossipmongers had said about him. He could be a lying rogue.

  But the lying rogue was in the middle of a group of older ladies, talking to just one. Though she was far smaller than he, she stood before him and wrung her hands, looking out over the crowd.

  Could this be Lord Parkhurst’s mother, looking for her twin sons? She pitied the poor woman, even as Rebecca eyed the eldest son.

  Perhaps it was time for her to turn the tables on him, she thought, feeling wicked. She marched straight toward the earl, and he saw her coming as he looked over his mother’s head. If she hoped for a warning, or signs of unease, she was disappointed. He seemed unflappable.

  “Lord Parkhurst, how wonderful to see you here!” she called, waving and giggling as she approached.

  She saw his mother’s look of recognition, even as the woman glanced up at her son.

  Lord Parkhurst took Rebecca’s proffered hand in his massive palm and bowed over it. Thank goodness they were both wearing gloves, for the way he held her hand a bit too long made her feel breathless.

  “How pleasant to see you again, Miss Leland.” He turned to the older woman. “Lady Parkhurst, may I present Miss Rebecca Leland? Miss Leland, my mother.”

  Rebecca swept into a deep curtsy, and noticed with satisfaction that the earl’s gaze dipped to her cleavage. She would use every feminine wile she possessed to defeat him, hoping that her sister and cousin would do the same. She would have to remind them of the goal.

  Lady Parkhurst bowed her head briefly, even as she smiled. “Miss Leland, I believe we have met before. I know your mother.”

  “Of course, my lady. But we cannot expect a man to realize that.” She smiled innocently up at the earl.

  The dowager countess sighed. “Forgive Parkhurst. He does not socialize as much as he should, which leads to ignorance.”

  Rebecca imagined it had been some time since anyone called this man ignorant. He only arched a dark brow and made no reply.

  He must have received his size from his father, for his mother was not much taller than Rebecca. Her hair was silver gray—how could it not be, after raising six children!—but it caused a striking loveliness when matched with her gray eyes.

  “Ignorance?” Rebecca echoed, putting a hand to her chest in shock. “Only a mother could accuse his lordship of such.”

  Lady Parkhurst smiled. “I like you, Miss Leland.” She glanced at her son. “Cheeky, isn’t she?”

  He only grunted.

  His mother gave a dramatic sigh. “Hardly an appropriate response, Parkhurst. I was giving you a chance to compliment a young lady.”

  Rebecca hid a smile, although she knew her eyes must be alight with it.

  “I believe I am old enough to know how to do so,” he answered dryly.

  To Rebecca she said, “Forgive him. He has decided his brothers need his careful tending, and is not tending to himself.”

  “It sounds like he’s a caring brother,” Rebecca said.

  “But he has a duty to the earldom, as well.”

  Lord Parkhurst let out a breath. “Enough,” he said mildly. “Miss Leland well understands a peer’s duty. Madingley is her cousin.”

  “What a fine family you have,” Lady Parkhurst said.

  She spoke a little too loudly, as if emphasizing that fact for her son. Rebecca had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at him. But she’d drawn his attention to her mouth, and now it felt decidedly strange to continue talking to his mother.

  “Lady Parkhurst, allow me to boldly offer my assistance. I assume you’d like your son to dance?”

  The earl narrowed his eyes, but his mother looked delighted.

  “Miss Leland, you are a smart girl. Do take good care of him.”

  She left them alone as the orchestra struck up a waltz.

  Lord Parkhurst stared down at her, heavy brows lowered.

  She stared back, smiling, so immensely pleased with herself. “I chased your mother away. Surely that makes you happy.”

  “No, you made her happy, by encouraging her interest in my relationships with marriageable women.”

  “You’re an earl; that won’t go away, not with any mama in Society. And we both know you are not interested in marrying someone like me,” she challenged. “I have too few morals—or so you’ve implied.”

  Then he surprised her by taking her hand, and sliding his other around her ribs. “Let’s see how a scandalous woman dances.”

  And he swept her off.

  Her breath left her; her very will was overpowered. He was so big, so powerful, that he guided her about like a doll, dipping and swaying, steering her between other, slower couples. She knew too many people were watching, including all of her family, and his. She should have been angry at not being in control—

  But she wasn’t. She felt giddy and breathless, yet could hardly let him see how he affected her. Teasing him was her only defense.

  “Lord Parkhurst, you’d best be careful. You may not be interested in marrying me, but we’ve both been seen talking to each other’s mother. To the ton, we’re practically engaged.”

  He only gave another grunt, and took her through a particularly tight turn. To her surprise, his thigh dipped between hers, so gracefully she thought she’d imagined it. Her face was flushed, and she found herself looking into his chest rather than up at his face. Then he did it again, deliberately, provocatively.

  Her gaze flew to his. His smile was slow in forming, his eyes hooded, full of amusement and aware
ness. He knew what he did to her. It was unfair that gentlemen were allowed so much more experience than ladies. It put her at a distinct disadvantage. All she had to counter him were her wits.

  Chapter 4

  Julian knew that everything he did to Rebecca, every touch, would rebound back on himself. He accepted the risk since it would help him toward the eventual goal. She simply made it so easy to taunt her, to tease a response. She had a tart tongue and a witty, intelligent mind.

  Not to mention the lovely body he held so near to his. She was wearing blue silk, and it seemed to shimmer over her skin like sunlit water. He enjoyed watching her face when he crossed the proper boundaries, allowing his legs to glide between hers, everything hidden within the flowing fabric of her skirts.

  He’d had to do something to counter her affect on him, or find himself gaping down her bodice mindlessly, like a boy who’d never been to a ball—like his brothers, he thought with distaste.

  As if she read his mind, she said, “I overheard your brothers talking with their friends about the painting.”

  Her tone had cooled noticeably.

  “They are rather young for you to be showing them such a thing,” she continued.

  “Not proud of yourself?”

  “You know that is not what I’m saying. That painting wasn’t meant to be there.”

  “I did not personally display the painting for them, but they are members of the club. You cannot expect that they would miss such a thing. And yes, they’re young, but I thought they would make more appropriate friendships there, perhaps hear about the benefits of an education. I have the tuition money; they need to go.” He frowned down at her. “But instead of making friends, they’ve seen you—your painting anyway. Or one of your female relatives.”

  “Disbelieving me already?” she replied.

  “No,” he said, looking down at her intensely as he whirled her about the floor. “You’re my choice, after all, and how can I dispute my instincts?” He let his hand slide lower down her back, feeling the faint bumps of her spine, then the curve of her lower back, strangely erotic in such a public place. He splayed his hand, pulling her even closer, so that her breasts brushed his ribs. “My instincts have never failed me. You feel like the painting looks,” he said, his voice husky.

 

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