Where Have All the Scoundrels Gone?

by Donna Cummings

  He placed his mouth on hers, determined to show her the depth of his feelings. There was no better place for her than in his arms, and in his life. With any luck, his body and his passion would convince her.

  ***

  Gemma raced down the corridor the next day, her heart unbearably full. She could see Miles was feeling something similar, but she had halted him the previous evening, before the words could be uttered. Why was she so afraid of what he would say? She adored him. She knew there would never be a man she cared for more than this one. In truth, she had found her perfect match. Her marriage had not even come close to this perfection.

  Yet there seemed little she could do to ensure her heart's desire and his did not conflict. Perhaps after dinner she could speak with the Dowager, to see if there was some room for negotiation. Or some method that would at least allow Miles to continue with his excursion, even though she would not.

  She was so immersed in her plans, she did not see Miles until she was wrapped in his arms, his embrace keeping them both from tumbling to the ground.

  "Oh, my apologies—" she began.

  "No apologies are needed." His eyes twinkled with mischief. "I cannot complain about another opportunity to steal a kiss."

  She glanced quickly down both ends of the corridor, ensuring they were quite alone, and then placed a chaste kiss on his lips. "That should keep you at least through dinner."

  "Or perhaps I could give you a quick tour of my bedchamber." He grinned as he reached for the door handle behind him. "I am certain you will find it exceedingly pleasant."

  "I have no doubts of that, although I am also certain it would not be quick."

  He gave her a playful shrug. "I may have stretched the truth there."

  "Come, we must head to dinner, or the Dowager will send someone for us." She stepped out of his arms, albeit unwillingly, and smoothed her skirts. "Somehow I have managed to work up quite an appetite this afternoon."

  "I have as well. How curious." His grin was irresistible. He extended his arm, which she took so they could walk towards the dining room. "Oh, I nearly forgot. The reason for nearly crashing into you. I was seeking you out—"

  His words made her heart thump madly. He was always in her thoughts, and it gratified her that she had a prominent place in his as well, despite the difficulties it caused.

  "I had some news to share with you," he continued, his excitement palpable. "I may have found an interested buyer for my alabaster bowl. It is still quite preliminary, of course, but I am quite hopeful."

  Gemma halted. "No! I mean, it is good news, in one way. But I detest that you have no other method to finance your expedition."

  "Your concern gladdens my heart, but I am convinced this is the best solution. For everyone."

  He tucked her hand in his arm and they recommenced their stroll. He seemed content, but Gemma remained doubtful.

  "Are you certain you could not find another possibility? You could pretend to fix your interest on one of the debutantes. At least until the Dowager dispenses the funds to you."

  "You are indeed a scoundrel. No wonder I adore you so much." Her heart nearly stopped at his words, but he continued on as if unaware of what a riot he had set off inside her. "But I could not deceive her. She is much too sharp. She would notice in an instant that my paying attention to one of the unfortunate debutantes was a ruse. No, I am content with what I have devised."

  Gemma's heart sank. She wished she could feel optimism, but she had hoped to find a solution that did not require Miles to sell his prized object. But he was correct when he said it would be impossible to deceive the Dowager about his interest in any of the debutantes, after he had assiduously avoided them, or done his best to drive them away.

  There had to be another way to resolve this dilemma. She would have to discover it soon, because time was running out, and Miles would be gone, and her only travel would be returning to the confines of her London home.

  Chapter 8

  Gemma tapped on the door, her heart pounding in the same sharp rhythm. She heard the Dowager's voice telling her to enter, so she did, with a fair bit of trepidation. She had little experience with that emotion, especially where the Dowager was concerned, but she managed to brush it aside.

  "I have come to talk about our arrangement," Gemma said with a bright smile. "Unless this is an inconvenient time."

  "Not at all." The Dowager waved her to a nearby seat. "I had hoped you'd have more success finding someone for Miles. Yet I understand how challenging it was. He has done nothing but drone on and on with those dreadful stories of his, making him a complete pariah. So do not think I blame you for being unable to find him a suitable match. I am not sure anyone could have."

  "That is why I am here. I actually have found someone for him."

  "How delightful! Not to mention completely unexpected." The Dowager sat back in her chair, her hands folded in her lap. "Who might it be? I know it is not Miss Haverton. Her constitution is much too weak. I saw how quickly she paled after hearing the more vivid accounts of his last trip."

  Gemma barely stifled a giggle. "Quite true."

  "And I cannot believe Miss Bensingham would suit either. She is much too fussy for a man who spends his days digging in the dirt. So tell me. Who have you found for him?"

  "She is sitting before you." Gemma's heart pounded more fiercely than ever before, but she managed to maintain her serene expression.

  "How is that possible?" The Dowager lifted her lorgnette and studied Gemma, and then pointedly glanced around the room. "The only one here is—"

  "Me."

  "Gemma, I adore you, and have since you were a child. But I meant for you to find Miles a match amongst the debutantes. I would not have invited that horde of silly females if I had intended anything else."

  "I understand, and that was my intention as well. At least it was initially."

  The Dowager frowned. "I thought I detected a strong interest on Miles's part. But I believed he was merely being his typical scoundrel self, thwarting my matchmaking plans."

  "He was trying to thwart your matchmaking plans." At the Dowager's gasp, Gemma added quickly, "We both were, but only once we discovered how perfectly suited we are."

  "Well, then. Perhaps you should attempt to convince me of that."

  There was no mistaking the disbelieving tone of voice. The raised eyebrows delivered the same message. But there was too much at stake for Gemma to falter now.

  "We felt an instant kinship, from our very first encounter," she began confidently. "It was not long before we discovered our mutual interests in travel, as well as Egypt and antiquities. Now we spend every moment chattering about these topics. You see, I adore the very same stories that drive debutantes away."

  "You were the only one who could bear to spend any time with him."

  The Dowager harrumphed, as if not wanting to admit even that much. It was not encouragement, precisely, but it spurred Gemma to continue on.

  "I can assure you we did our best to resist this attraction between us. But how can you stay away from someone who laughs with you about things no one else comprehends? Who knows what you are thinking without words being spoken?"

  She carefully omitted one other important aspect—the bedchamber activities she and Miles enjoyed together—but it was possible her blush gave that information away.

  Gemma gazed hopefully at the Dowager. Would that be enough to convince her? Or had the fervent attempt to change her mind sealed Gemma's doom instead? It seemed she waited an eternity while the Dowager studied her with her lorgnette. Gemma opened her mouth, ready to renew her list of reasons, but the Dowager halted her with an upraised hand.

  "You make some excellent points, Gemma. Rather convincing ones. Though I cannot help but feel I have been bested somehow."

  "I am genuinely sorry for that. Yet the truth is I cannot imagine being happy with anyone but Miles, and I believe he feels the same about me. There is no better match for either of us."

&n
bsp; The Dowager's face lit up with a broad smile. "Go find the rascal and bring him here. After I scold him for being such a scoundrel, I shall inform him you both have my blessing."

  Gemma's heart leapt with excitement, and her knees weakened with the relief coursing through her. However, there was still one more provision to settle. A most important one.

  "About the stipend..."

  She could not bear for Miles to sell his prized bowl to the unnamed seller he had contacted. Once she had the stipend in hand, she would insist Miles allow her to buy the artifact. Hopefully it would be enough money for him to consider hers a serious offer. If so, she would return the alabaster bowl to him, so he could continue to possess it while still going on his travels.

  She could not help but wish there was a way for her to accompany him. Perhaps someday in the future. For now, it would be enough to see his joyous expression once she told him what she had accomplished.

  "The stipend." The Dowager's frown had returned. "I believe it required an offer—"

  "No, it merely required a match. Which you have just agreed I accomplished."

  The Dowager tipped her head back and cackled with uninhibited glee. "Gemma, you are as much of a scoundrel as he is. Of course you are perfect for him. I do not know why I did not see it before now."

  Gemma was feeling flush with victory. Why not press for more? "Miles shall have his allowance too, of course."

  The Dowager's eyebrows shot up into her hairline. "What a minx you are. Yes, yes, I shall see to it that he receives his allowance too. Now run along. After being thoroughly outwitted by the pair of you, I am feeling a bit faint. I shall need a restorative dose of sherry."

  Gemma laughed and rushed to the Dowager's side, giving her a hearty kiss on both cheeks. "How can I ever thank you for bringing me such happiness?"

  The Dowager harrumphed again, but it was easy to see the joy in the older woman's eyes, much as she tried to mask it. "Away with you now. I have to determine how I can salvage this house party and see that Richard and William fall in line with my plans for them."

  Gemma barely heard the words, for she was racing through the doorway, eager to tell Miles what the future held for them.

  ***

  Miles knelt near the rosebush and called out to Snowball. The cat had just scurried under the row of bushes, right before Miles could grab the animal. He was impatient to get back to Gemma, to detail his plans for the future. He had been too distracted upon first seeing her earlier to tell her, and then they had spent dinner seated with other partners.

  He had escaped the ritual port and cigars with the men so he could find Gemma. But then Snowball had complicated the situation by racing in front of him and sneaking under the rosebushes, clearly her favorite hiding place.

  "Snowball, please come out. I have to speak with Gemma and you are preventing me from doing so." The animal gave a plaintive meow, but did not acquiesce to his demand. He could not leave her. What if she had moved her kittens to this spot? They were too young and defenseless still, their eyes not even open yet. "Snowball, I beg of you."

  Miles waited, in vain, since Snowball refused to cooperate.

  "Fine, I shall retrieve you then." He removed his coat and set it on the ground. His valet would succumb to vapors but there was not a bench nearby. He kept his sleeves down, to protect against any thorns, and then ducked his head underneath the bush. "I can see you now, so there is no need to pretend I do not."

  The cat was as unwilling to help as he expected. Still, he had seen Gemma work miracles by chatting with the beast, so perhaps he could too.

  "If not for you, I might have never met this woman who has stolen my heart, and I am impatient to know if she will spend her future with me. So while I am grateful for your assistance in bringing us together initially, I would truly appreciate if you could assist me in bringing us together now."

  Snowball's head tilted slightly, almost as if she was giving his request serious consideration. Miles inched forward.

  "I have such grand plans for the both of us. Er, three of us. Or how many we are now that you have added kittens to the mix."

  He nearly had his hand on Snowball...until the creature wriggled backwards. Miles followed her movements but without success. He attempted to lunge toward her but discovered why he could not: his clothes were caught in the thorns surrounding him.

  He began to let loose a hearty oath, but halted when he felt a hand smoothing over his buttocks and up his back. His body reacted instantly, recognizing her touch. He would never tire of her hands exploring him, soothing him, arousing him.

  "Gemma."

  "Indeed," she said, her voice filled with laughter. "Now I am inclined to help you out of this predicament. I might not have if you had uttered another's name."

  "You should know I shall never utter another's name, nor shall I ever wish for anyone's hands on me but yours."

  He heard her sigh of contentment right before she began working to free him. "I have come to deliver some good news."

  "I have news I wish to regale you with as well." He forced himself to remain patient while she loosened his shirt from the abundance of thorns.

  "It will be easier to carry on this conversation when we are face to face." She tugged the last obstacle from his shirt. "You can move away now. You have nothing impeding you."

  "Except for Snowball. She will not permit me to remove her from her hiding spot." He moved back slowly. "I have never encountered such a recalcitrant creature."

  "I am surprised she did not respond to your earlier flattery. Besides, I know she cannot abandon her kittens for long."

  Just as Miles stood up, the cat shot from underneath the bushes and headed off towards the house. He might have frowned, but the joyful expression on Gemma's face reminded him of the news he wished to share, the news that would prove her belief in his heroic qualities was not misplaced. He would ensure it never would be.

  He brushed his finger along her hairline, treasuring the smile she bestowed upon him. "Gemma, I want to tell you more about the buyer for my alabaster bowl—"

  "You cannot sell it. Well, you can, I suppose, but I insist on buying it."

  "How is that possible? Have you inherited a fortune in a few hours' time?"

  She giggled at his obvious consternation. "No, but I have convinced the Dowager that I have found the perfect match for you, and have earned my stipend."

  "The perfect match?" His lips curved upwards, and his heart beat with happiness. "I cannot disagree with that."

  "And once I have bought the alabaster bowl, you can continue your excursion. I will ensure the bowl's safekeeping while you are gone, of course—"

  "It is an excellent plan. But I have made other arrangements."

  "Oh." Her excitement dimmed. "I see."

  He pulled her into his arms, unwilling for her unhappiness to last for even a brief moment. "I have arranged for your father to purchase the bowl."

  Her eyebrows shot upwards. "He will be thrilled to have it as part of his exhibition."

  "Indeed. But I included a condition. One which I told him was not negotiable." He kissed the tip of her nose. "I insisted that you be allowed to accompany me on my upcoming expeditions, since I have need of someone with your knowledge and experience."

  Her face lit up once more. "Miles, you are quite brilliant."

  "I am gratified you think so. I will wait until I see him in person before I tell him I have fallen head over ears for his daughter." Her laughter was delightful, charming him as it had from the beginning. "Did my aunt resist when you informed her you had found my perfect match?"

  "Just a bit, at first. But I think she was secretly pleased." Gemma nuzzled his neck. "I also persuaded her that you had earned your allowance."

  "You are quite the negotiator. We have gone from paupers to being as rich as Croesus in the span of one day." He held her more tightly. "Though—no, that would sound so trite. I should not even utter the words."

  "Please do. I must hear t
hem."

  "I realized how I have spent my life seeking treasure, and instead found it here, trapped by a rosebush."

  He worried for an instant she might dismiss his words out of hand, but instead she squeezed him more tightly.

  "Miles Colborne, if you had not already stolen my heart, those words would have done it."

  He gave her a kiss that was leisurely, and tender, but with a hint of the passion he meant to unleash later. "I could say something equally earnest, such as I realize we should look to the future, not the past. But if I do, I fear I may chase you away for good."

  She giggled. "It may be easier to deliver these bon mots while we are unclothed."

  "I could not agree more. Come. Let us test this theory of yours. I have many more I believe you shall find amusing." He wrapped his arm about her waist and led them towards the house. "Several hours' worth at least."

  "And I have several hours' worth of plans to discuss. We should hurry."

  He grinned, happier than he could ever have imagined. "Yes, we should."

  Richard

  Chapter 9

  Richard did not give his cousins another glance as he left the bathing party behind. He was sure to hear a fair amount of teasing from them at his complete lack of interest in scantily clad females frolicking in the water. But he had another woman in the forefront of his thoughts.

  Miss Lockhart.

  He wasn't entirely sure where her cottage was located, but it could not be so difficult to discover after watching the direction her carriage had gone the other day. He probably could have asked his aunt, but did not want her chiding him to leave the poor woman alone, or worse, insisting he concentrate on the myriad debutantes she had assembled for him and his cousins.

  So he set out with high hopes, the way he did every time he ventured into foreign territory, not knowing whether he would be received with welcomes or weapons.

  He grinned. With Miss Lockhart, it might be best to expect the latter.

  He cheerfully continued his jaunt down the deserted country lane, enjoying the slight breeze, noticing the leaves bobbing along with the wind. In no time, he spied a cottage through a break in the trees. He paused. There was no way of knowing for certain if it was the Lockhart residence. Still, he could at least ask for assistance in finding it.