In Pursuit of a Scandalous Lady

by Gayle Callen

  Her eyes widened, and she missed a step, but he easily held her up. She didn’t even try to escape, as if she knew that he wouldn’t release her.

  “Do your sister and cousin dance as well you do?” he asked, leaning down to speak into her ear.

  He felt her stiffen and knew she understood his threat. She would not be the only one he talked to in his quest to discover the truth.

  If only he could directly ask about the diamond. But she wasn’t wearing it, and if he brought it up, he might alert her that something more was going on than a drunken wager. He couldn’t risk her speaking to someone in her family who might know more about the history of the jewel—or might have been involved in the theft.

  The waltz ended much too quickly, and after a brief curtsy, she left him without allowing him to escort her off the ballroom floor. He watched her go, knowing that others had seen her rudeness. He didn’t care—although their mothers might. He almost smiled.

  She was more than capable of sparring with him, but it was obvious she didn’t like the thought of him doing the same with her sister and cousin.

  Late that night while her maid helped her undress, Rebecca thought again of the earl’s threat to go after her sister and cousin. She loved Susanna and Elizabeth dearly, but they had not weathered the same childhood storms she had, and she worried that their strength would easily wear down.

  At the ball, both Peter and Leo had requested a dance of their chosen targets. Elizabeth acquiesced, while Susanna preferred not to dance. So Leo had doted on her, even though she’d put on her spectacles like a shield.

  Lord Parkhurst had watched them all, not bothering to hide his amusement as he stared with open challenge at Rebecca.

  He thought he would win. And this was only the first evening!

  After the maid had gone, Susanna dragged in a yawning Elizabeth, who promptly sank down on the four-poster bed and curled up among the pillows.

  “You’ll both hear my plan now,” Susanna said firmly.

  Rebecca picked up her brush and started on her hair. “Of course. Tell us everything.”

  “We cannot stay in London and let those three men pick us apart one by one, looking for weaknesses, combining their information.”

  Elizabeth sat back up, her brow furrowed. “But they’re trying to best each other.”

  “And us. And I’m beginning to think that defeating us is more appealing than defeating each other.”

  Rebecca smiled at Elizabeth. “She assumes that because she knows what’s beneath a man’s skin, she knows how he thinks.”

  Susanna smiled at their age-old debate. “I didn’t say that. But I think the best way we can protect this secret is to go our separate ways, not make it so easy for them to question us one by one.”

  “Separate ways?” Rebecca echoed, frowning.

  “Eventually one of us will make a mistake. I think we reduce the risk of that if we don’t give them access to all of us.”

  “But it’s like…leaving the game,” Rebecca finished, disappointment washing through her.

  But although she protested, inside she knew that her sister was right, that the men would somehow use them against each other. Lord Parkhurst had openly claimed his intent to do so.

  “No, it’s like taking the game elsewhere,” Susanna said, smiling slowly. “If they choose not to follow, then we win, don’t you see?”

  “I can’t leave,” Elizabeth said slowly. “My mother has not been feeling well, and I need to be with her.”

  “That’s fine,” Susanna insisted. “We mustn’t go together anyway. I’ve been invited to a house party. I’ll attend.”

  “Mother mentioned it,” Rebecca said doubtfully. “She’ll insist I attend, too.”

  “Not if you’re going to visit Great-aunt Rianette.”

  The brush froze in Rebecca’s hair as she frowned at her sister. “I beg your pardon?”

  “She’s been asking for one of us to visit, and Mama has been feeling guilty that we’ve been too busy. Now she won’t have to feel guilty anymore,” she concluded in triumph.

  Wide-eyed, Elizabeth hugged a pillow to her lower face, as if hiding a grin.

  Rebecca rounded on her sister. “You get to attend a party, and I visit an elderly relative—in the remote Lake District, of all places?”

  Susanna winced and shrugged. “Can you think of a better way to separate? You saw how the men were. If you stay in London, they’ll use you and Elizabeth against each other. Don’t you see—Lord Parkhurst will most likely follow you. Isn’t that what you want, the chance to do something different?”

  Rebecca opened her mouth…then slowly closed it. “Perhaps he wouldn’t,” she began slowly.

  “Oh, he will,” Elizabeth insisted. “I saw him watching you.” Her eyes scrunched as she tried not to laugh. “And you were watching him.”

  “I—I had to!” Rebecca blustered. “It’s not what you think. It’s part of the challenge, the adventure.”

  Susanna took her hand and gave a slow smile, saying softly, “Then let us change the rules and surprise them.”

  “But Great-aunt Rianette?”

  “She’ll be quite the challenge for Lord Parkhurst.”

  They stared at each other and then burst out laughing.

  “I’ll buy you and your maid a train ticket in the morning, and you can leave in the late afternoon,” Susanna said, wiping her eyes. “I’ll leave it on your dressing table. You’ll still have time to attend Lady Thurlow’s reception with me. Have Beatrice pack your trunk and send it to the railway station. If you’d like, I’ll even speak to Mama for you.”

  “You really want this,” Rebecca said, eyeing her sister. “Do you want Mr. Wade to follow you?”

  “If he follows, it’s because I’m simply a different sort of challenge for him. I don’t find him terribly amusing, and I’m certain that he’s flirted with ladies who are much more accomplished at it than I. He will tire of me and the game quickly.”

  “Then you don’t know men,” Rebecca warned her. She looked at her sister and her cousin in turn. “Should I wish us all good luck, even though we won’t need it?”

  They held each other’s hands for a moment, smiling.

  Early the next afternoon, Julian leaned against the wall in Lady Thurlow’s drawing room, waiting for Rebecca to arrive. He’d already been to Madingley House, and managed to discover from a stableboy that the ducal carriage would be going to the home of the elderly earl of Banstead. It was easy enough to change his mind and attend, and Lady Thurlow, the earl’s daughter-in-law, had seemed surprised and pleased to see him.

  He really had no idea that the ladies of Society had forgotten the scandals of the past. His mother had tried to tell him of course, but since he intended to find a suitable wife on his own accord, he’d avoided the matchmaking mamas as much as possible.

  He idly wondered which of the women in attendance he’d been considering for marriage. Not that he’d recognize any of them. Their looks and comportment were not nearly so important as their family backgrounds and their temperaments. He’d already met many of their fathers, of course, and smoothly persuaded the men to discuss their daughters in a frank manner. Occasionally he rearranged his list of eligible prospects as he gathered more information. He didn’t understand the dilemma of other men where choosing a wife was concerned. The selection was practically mathematical.

  It didn’t take him long to realize why Lady Thurlow was so surprised at his attendance that afternoon. This was not a regular luncheon, but a reception to discuss the arts. There were women taking turns playing the piano and singing, groups of people discussing the paintings on the walls, even an easel set up in one corner with clusters of budding artists.

  He felt very out of place, for this regularly held event was obviously well used by young men blatantly looking for a wife, something he was always very careful not to advertise. And he was by far the most titled man here. When he saw his brothers arrive, they scowled at him as if he might int
erfere with whatever flirtation they had planned for the afternoon. He felt…old. But then he’d felt like their parent since he was eighteen.

  He was hardly acting as an established businessman and earl. He knew his businesses and properties could run without him, but he’d neglected meetings and paperwork these last few days. He told himself it wasn’t just about the foolish wager but about the stolen diamond, and family honor.

  But it was about Rebecca Leland, too, he realized, straightening away from the wall when he saw her enter at last. She stood in the hall, speaking animatedly to Lady Thurlow while her sister Susanna was called away to the group by the easel.

  Julian simply waited, his gaze on Rebecca. More than one person approached him, then thought better of it. He almost followed Susanna for an interrogation, then realized he’d be irritating her sister. Why did he enjoy the prospect of that so much? Was it the fire in Rebecca’s eyes, the verbal challenges between them? He told himself he needed to win her trust, not irritate her. The wager meant nothing compared to the ultimate prize of discovering what had happened to the Scandalous Lady after all these years.

  And then Rebecca saw him, and he felt the power of the moment hold him still. She gave him a wicked smile, and he nodded in return. Her dark hair gleamed in the afternoon light, and she wore a dress as yellow as a sunbeam.

  So when had he bothered to notice a dress unless it was to divest a woman of it?

  But not usually an unmarried miss of the ton. But that’s what he wanted to do to her, lay her delicate body across his big bed and then—

  And then she was coming toward him, direct as always, and he was relieved to have his fantasies interrupted. He had to keep his mind focused, more so with her than any other woman of his acquaintance.

  Her scent of jasmine enveloped him as she came to a stop. He blinked at her.

  She smiled. “Lord Parkhurst, how unusual to meet you at a reception for the arts.”

  He leaned a shoulder against the wall. “I like the arts.”

  She smirked, but only said, “It is my sister’s passion. She is a brilliant artist.”

  “Does she have paintings for sale? I’m sure she’d speak to me in depth if I purchased some.”

  Rebecca tsked as she shook her head. “Bribery will not work, my lord. She makes gifts of her art, and she assists our father.”

  “Your father is a professor…” he began, faintly confused.

  She looked away, and he realized that she regretted being so free with information.

  Then she took a deep breath. “He lectures and researches on the topic of anatomy.”

  “Does she take notes for him? Perhaps transcribe his work?”

  Rebecca tilted her chin so their eyes could meet. “She sketches.”

  “What does she—ah,” he said with sudden understanding and growing interest. “She sketches his work. His dissections?”

  She nodded. “It is not common knowledge, my lord. I only tell you so that you will not pursue such a subject with her. She is sensitive to the fact that our mother is mortified by what she’s done, seen the human form so completely—”

  “Nude?” he interrupted, glancing leisurely down her body. He enjoyed her blushes, and she didn’t disappoint. He didn’t linger on his thoughts of the painting of course, for his trousers would soon be too tight. Not that he didn’t battle that regardless whenever she was around, as if he were a schoolboy again.

  “Not quite the same thing as my painting at the club,” she said dryly. “I stayed away from the laboratory. It was rather…messy.”

  “I can imagine.” Feeling a prickling of awareness, Julian glanced up to see his brothers frowning at him. He hadn’t told them he was attending, and he certainly didn’t want them to know anything about his current plans. Without asking, he took Rebecca’s arm. “Since you’re not the artist of the family, care to walk the gardens with me?”

  She seemed startled but smiled readily enough. He liked that she wasn’t afraid of him, that she welcomed the challenge of the wager. It would make his search for information so much easier.

  They remained silent as they walked through the house, across the terrace and onto a garden path. A cool, spring breeze ruffled their clothing, but Rebecca didn’t seem to mind it as she lifted her face to the sun.

  “A fine day, after all the rain,” she said, walking at his side, her hand still lightly on his arm.

  “We’re going to discuss the weather?” he asked dubiously.

  She continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “A good day for traveling.” She gave him a provocative glance.

  He frowned. “Traveling? Are you journeying somewhere?”

  “I might be.”

  “At the height of the Season?”

  She shrugged. “Family duty calls. A silly wager can’t be more important than that.”

  “A silly wager? Are you fleeing notoriety? Worried that awareness of the painting will spread?”

  She clenched her jaw, but the smile never left her face.

  He felt frustrated. Now that the truth of the diamond was so close, how could he permit it—or her—to elude him? He had to make her reveal the truth. But how to coerce a lady into doing anything?

  But she wasn’t behaving like a lady, and that gave him more freedom.

  “I won’t allow you to flee from me,” he said in a low voice.

  He pulled her against him. She gasped, but didn’t cry out, didn’t push him away, even though her hands were on his chest. Very slowly she lifted her face until their eyes met. For a suspended moment, he let himself simply feel the delicateness of her bones, the way her thighs touched his. Because of his height, his hips were pressed into the softness of her stomach. He had his hands on her back, but he didn’t need to hold her to him, for she remained still.

  He forgot about his questions, his goals. There was only her nearness, the jasmine that enticed his senses, the warmth of her in his arms. He forgot where they were, who might see them—and what the consequences might be. He found himself bending over her, longing to taste the sweetness of her lips. And surely she wanted the same, for she raised herself up on tiptoe to reach him, began to slide her hands along his ribs to his back—

  “Look what Julian is doing!” cried an appalled male voice.

  With a gasp, Rebecca practically leapt away from him, and he let her go, feeling sluggish and dazed. Wide-eyed, she covered her mouth, and he saw her fear.

  He put out a hand but didn’t touch her. “It’s only my brother Gavin.”

  She let out a breath, closed her eyes. Then they both turned to find the twins bearing down on them, rounding the fountain.

  To others, the twins were identical, but Julian knew their every difference in personality and expression, and even the way they wore their dark hair. Gavin was in the lead, but Joseph was right behind. Both of them ogled Rebecca with interest, even as they came to a stop, hands on their hips in the same pose.

  “I am rather surprised at such behavior,” Joseph said.

  Gavin snorted. “Julian, you’re hardly the model of propriety you’ve always held yourself to be.”

  Julian found himself growing angrier by the moment at their rude behavior. He let his frown speak for him. “Gentlemen,” he said, stressing the word. “Allow me to introduce a lady.”

  They both stiffened and blinked, and any sheepish expression on their part was mostly hidden.

  “Miss Leland, these are my brothers, Gavin and Joseph Delane.”

  He wondered if she would be embarrassed, but her worried expression had given way to one of amusement. She gave each of the boys her hand and an elegant curtsy, even though her cheeks were still a flushed from the intimacy of their near kiss.

  “Mr. Delane.” She nodded to one, then the other. “Mr. Delane.”

  Her easy elegance seemed to make them tongue-tied, and they looked between Julian and Rebecca with new hesitation.

  “Are you both an admirer of the arts?” Rebecca asked, giving Julian a sidelong glan
ce. “Is that why you’re attending Lady Thurlow’s reception?”

  He was impressed by her daring, as if she challenged him to bring up a certain painting.

  “Art is…fine,” Gavin said. “But the ladies make it better.”

  Joseph covered a snort of laughter. Julian could have groaned at their immaturity.

  Rebecca smiled. “Your brother tells me the same thing.” Tossing her head, she walked away from them all, calling behind her, “Good day, Lord Parkhurst.”

  Damn, but he’d lost the chance to discover where she was journeying—and when. He would have followed her, but Gavin caught his arm.

  “Could this really be our brother?” Gavin said to Joseph, his face full of mock surprise.

  “What a terrible example he sets.” Joseph shook his head.

  Julian wondered if his focus on Rebecca was being noticed by more than just his brothers. He didn’t want gossip to harm her—he only wanted the diamond, and to enjoy teasing her.

  He would have to follow her closely and discover her plans.

  “Oh, he has it bad,” Gavin said behind him. “The mighty are about to fall.”

  The boys laughed, but he ignored them.

  Chapter 5

  Rebecca didn’t think Lord Parkhurst saw her as she slipped out the front door of Banstead House. She left Susanna behind, knowing how much her sister enjoyed this particular reception when they were in town.

  Rebecca knew herself too well. She would have confessed to her sister that the earl had tried to kiss her, and that she would have allowed it but for the interruption of his puppyish brothers.

  She waited on the front step for her carriage to be brought around, her mind dizzy, her body flushed and somehow unsettled.

  She’d wanted his kiss, and not simply because it would have distracted him from his questions. How could she think that succumbing to temptation would in any way help her win the wager?