Tempting Bella (Entangled Scandalous)

by Diana Quincy

  “He said that?”

  Flor nodded, her green eyes sparkling. “And I heard him say the most scandalous thing. It’s delicious really,”

  Her stomach lurched. “Scandalous?”

  “Let me see. He said something about large, velvet-brown eyes and a sumptuous form that made a man think of things he shouldn’t when looking at a lady.” Flor scrunched up her nose. “I must confess I don’t quite take his meaning. Although, it does sound positively wicked.”

  “Florinda!” Willa couldn’t help but smile at the girl’s audacity. They’d become fast friends this season—her new cohort’s blunt nature being one of the qualities Willa admired most. It helped that the earl’s daughter knew everything there was to know about Town, unlike Willa whose parents had always preferred country living.

  “Look, he’s coming toward us.” Flor’s gaze followed the viscount. “ I’d wager he’ll ask someone for an introduction.”

  Apprehension rolled in her stomach. She darted a look at the gentleman, who did indeed appear to be heading in their direction. He was waylaid by his companion, a well-known dandy and gossip, who put a staying hand on his lordship’s arm and murmured something into his ear. The viscount’s eyebrows inched up a little at a time as he listened, then his gaze darted back to Willa. Only this time the appraisal lacked any pretense of courtesy, wandering over her curves with insolent scrutiny, as though he could see straight through her gown.

  “Oh, how rude!” Flor’s eyes widened. “Did you see how he looked at you?”

  Willa’s gut twisted. The way he’d looked at her made her feel like a strumpet. It intensified the uneasy feeling that had lingered all evening. The curious glances from some guests, the whispers when she passed one group of matrons. Clearly, rumors of her ruination still circulated. One would think there’d be a new scandal for the ton to focus on by now.

  Ignoring her discomfort, she slipped her arm through Flor’s. “Come now. I, for one, intend to enjoy this evening. It is my first Season in years.”

  It had been an age since she’d circulated among these people. At first, the threat of scandal had kept them away after her first and only season. Then her father had fallen ill, lingering for a year before succumbing, leading to another year of seclusion in the country.

  “Willa,” Flor said as they made their way to the refreshment table. “Perhaps I shouldn’t mention this but—”

  “Come now, you’ve never held your tongue before.” She squeezed her friend’s arm. “Surely you don’t mean to start now. I would be sorely disappointed if you did.”

  Flor gave a grim smile of acknowledgement. “I don’t want to upset you but you shouldn’t be taken by surprise.”

  “Out with it then.”

  “Augustus Manning is here.”

  “Augustus?” A sharp pain knifed through Willa. She’d confided a bit about Augustus to her new friend. Not all of it, of course. She’d never tell anyone the entire truth. “How do you know?”

  “I saw him with my own eyes just a few minutes ago. He was heading to the cards room.”

  She darted a look toward the chamber in question, scanning the crowd for the man she had expected to spend a lifetime with, who instead became the source of her greatest humiliation. “Are you certain it was he?”

  Flor nodded, sighing with obvious appreciation. “It is difficult to mistake a gentleman with looks as fine as that.”

  Her throat felt as though someone had lodged their fist in it. “I suppose it had to happen at some point.”

  Sympathy lit Flor’s eyes. “Come now, forget about that fribble. Let us walk and dazzle everyone with our superior beauty and charm.”

  “I seem to have torn my gown during the last set,” she lied, eager for escape. “I must have it attended to.”

  A few minutes later, in the ladies’ refreshing room, Willa surveyed her reflection in the mirror, observing how much she’d changed these last four years. She looked older of course. Her eyes were still too big, her lips so large they were almost vulgar. Her figure was more womanly than the preferred current style, but it didn’t matter. She’d never be a great beauty.

  What had really changed most about Willa was what people couldn’t see. She viewed life through different eyes now, knowing it could change it an instant. She’d learned that firsthand, after the disaster with Augustus and then her father’s death. The young girl who challenged Augustus to race their horses against the countryside, her untamed hair flying—jesting with him on the rare occasion that she actually beat him—had vanished. Those summers, and the world of innocent possibility that came with them, seemed like a lifetime ago. Life had not been carefree since then. Nor did she expect it to be so again.

  Not ready to face returning to the main assembly room and the possibility of running into Augustus, she headed to the terrace instead. To her relief, the long, narrow structure appeared mostly empty. She took a moment to enjoy her reprieve in the quiet coolness of the darkened veranda. Breathing in the clear night air, she tilted her face upward to feel the soft spring breeze brush across her skin.

  Augustus. She understood now that it hadn’t been a love match between them, but they had been friends once. Or so she’d thought. The memories flooded back. The two of them, along with his brother and her sister, had spent countless easy summer days as children exploring the grounds surrounding their adjoining estates. And then the inn happened.

  “I see the years have only added to the lady’s beauty.”

  A chill shot up her back as the smooth timbre of Augustus’s voice washed over her. Forcing her leaden legs to move, she turned to face him, the dark specter from her past silhouetted by the brilliance of the ballroom behind him.

  He’d always been handsome, and the passage of years had ripened that boyish promise into true masculine beauty. Augustus carried his impressive height and long limbs with a lanky, almost careless, elegance that spoke of prominent birth and a sense of entitlement. Perfectly ruffled golden hair highlighted a strong jaw that belied the weak man Willa now knew him to be.

  “Augustus.”

  “My dearest Willa remains the loveliest rose in all England. I heard of your father’s passing. My sincerest condolences, of course.”

  He used her nickname casually, as though they still belonged to each other. “Thank you.” Shock and confusion seemed to have robbed her of any words.

  He frowned over the bridge of a nose so straight and symmetrical even Michelangelo would have marveled over it. “Come, Willa, ’tis me, Augustus. What is with such coldness for an admirer who desires nothing more than the precious gift of a lady’s smile?”

  A kernel of anger stirred inside her. “There was a time you took far more than that.”

  “Let’s not dwell on the past. Not when we have the brightest of futures to look forward to.”

  “A future?”

  “Of course, with the depth of feeling that you and I can only find in each other.”

  Her throat constricted. “The time for any sort of romantic foolishness has passed.” Willa turned away and rested her gloved hands on the cold stone balustrade, the chill stealing up her arms and rippling through her insides. “Surely, you recognize the realities of the world. You certainly assured that I did.”

  “Balderdash.” He moved beside her, close enough for his perfume to fill her nostrils with the smell of rosemary, almonds, and old memories that were best forgotten. “I have come to take you for my wife. Nothing stands between us now.”

  Her heart took a slight leap. Perhaps she’d been wrong about Augustus. Maybe his regard for her would prove strong enough after all. “The earl has agreed to this?” she ventured, feeling the tiniest sprig of hope. “Or have you decided to proceed without your father’s consent?”

  He laughed, but it was a mirthless sound. “It is what the Earl of Bellingham desires above all else.”

  “I don’t understand,” Willa stammered. The old earl had always been firmly opposed to any match between them; he’d
been in search of a larger dowry, but Augustus had convinced her they could overcome his objections. Foolishly—disastrously—she’d believed him. “How could this be?”

  “My father is dead. Not three days in the ground and I have come for you because I couldn’t bear to wait one moment longer for us to be together.” He resumed his smiling demeanor, yet no warmth emanated from him. “Once an appropriate mourning period is past, we shall become betrothed just as we should have in earnest four years ago.”

  It took her a moment to comprehend his words. His father dead. After all these years, nothing stood between them. She paused, waiting for a warm surge of joy now that they could finally be together. But there was…nothing. The only warmth she felt came from the anger kindling in her chest.

  “I see.” Comprehension sank in. “Do you dare delude yourself into thinking I would accept you now, after the humiliation you inflicted upon me, sir?”

  She stilled at the sound of laughter from a couple approaching from the far side of the terrace. She stepped back into the shadows, away from Augustus. She had no desire to be seen alone with him, which would resurrect the old rumors. “Please, take your leave of me. I am not so foolish as to repeat the follies of my past.”

  He stepped closer but then seemed to reconsider. “You are even lovelier in your anger, my dear.” A satisfied smile crossed his face. “It appears you have grown up, my wild Willa.”

  “Indeed I am great deal wiser than the foolish girl you knew.”

  “And a great deal more beautiful.” He looked at her through heavy eyelids. “I dare say the secret pleasures of marriage will be even more enjoyable than I’ve anticipated all these years.”

  “I shall never look favorably upon your renewed offer of matrimony.” Willa’s stomach revolted at the thought of resuming any kind of intimacy with this man. “I would prefer to lead the apes into Hades rather than become your wife.”

  “You, an ape leader? Such loveliness would be wasted on the shelf.” Cool eyes slid over the curves of her body. “I would enjoy pressing the issue, but it won’t do for my future countess to be tainted by further scandal.”

  “I will never marry. Not you or anyone else.”

  “Nonsense.” He drew back and executed a quick bow. “We are meant to be together. No one else shall ever have you.” Spinning around on his heels, he marched back into the ballroom.

  She squelched the urge to fling something hard and heavy at the earl’s retreating back. Furious thoughts crowded her head. How had she ever borne such an insufferable man? To have contemplated a life with him!

  Only a foolish young girl would have considered marriage to such a disagreeable man. Her own come-out Season years ago had met with great success, but she’d only had eyes for Augustus, who’d already begun to press his suit despite his father’s vehement disapproval. It shamed her now to admit that Augustus’s undeniable good looks might have swayed her judgment of his character.

  A noise at the bottom of the terrace stairs, just a few feet from where she stood, cut into her thoughts. The sound of crunching gravel.

  Someone was down there.

  …

  Willa peered down into the shadows where the light of a garden torch illuminated a masculine face etched in hard lines.

  He leaned into the flame, giving the unlit cheroot in his mouth a few quick inhales, cajoling it to take. When it sparked and smoked, the man leaned back with a satisfied air, taking a deep inhale.

  He was likely a footman staying out of view while taking a break from his duties. Disconcerted, she called out in a chastising tone. “You there, what do you mean by hiding in the shadows listening to private discourse?”

  “That was quite a scene,” the shadow drawled. “I look forward with great anticipation to seeing how this charming love story concludes.” Tall and darkly clothed, his carriage was not that of a servant, but someone of breeding would never smoke in front of a lady.

  “You are very insolent,” she said heatedly, “to speak to me in such a manner.”

  He regarded her with amused curiosity. “A thousand pardons, ma’am.”

  She moved down the stairs to get a better look at him. Closer inspection revealed he wore formal evening attire topped with a snowy cravat. Not a servant then. He took a deep drag and exhaled. Lazy circles of silvery smoke melted into nothingness around the glow of the flame, steeping the air with the pungent aroma of burning tobacco.

  “Forgive me if I have transgressed.” He stepped away from the torch, the glowing tip of the cheroot danced in the dark as he moved. “However, in my defense, I was here previous to your romantic assignation on the terrace.”

  “Romantic assignation? It was no such thing!” Mortified he’d witnessed the appalling scene with Augustus, she prayed he’d have the good manners to vanish as quickly and quietly as he had appeared.

  Instead, the scoundrel chuckled. “Once the heart-warming declarations of love and marriage began, I was keen to learn how it would all resolve itself.”

  She batted the smoke away in quick, jerky movements. “It was private—”

  “Most assignations are,” he interrupted, his eyes dancing. “Are felicitations on your impending betrothal in order? Allow me to be the first to bestow them.”

  “You are insufferable.” Embarrassed indignation filled her chest. “A gentlemanlike man would have made his presence known. But you are obviously no gentleman.”

  “So some have said.” He drew on his cheroot and exhaled, watching darkness swallow the curling fog of silvery smoke. “But enough about that. Do tell, are you and old Gus stepping into the parson’s mousetrap?”

  As her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, she could make out the unforgiving angles of his face. Sharp-cut lines that would look quite menacing, if not for the roguish glint in his eyes.

  “Even if it were so, I surely wouldn’t share information of a personal nature with a stranger,” she snapped, her nerves on end. “I do not know you, sir.”

  “Quite right. I’m suitably chastened.” His answering grin flashed white in the darkness. “Do accept my most humble apologies.”

  His hand suddenly whipped out to grab her arm. Startled, she jumped back with a cry of alarm. His ungloved fingers tightened around the bare skin of her arm above silk evening gloves, the shock of flesh on flesh sizzled through her.

  “What are you doing?” She struggled as he dragged her behind the hedgerow. Jerking his head in the direction of the stairs, he brought a long, tapered finger to the firm curve of his lips, signaling for her to be silent. She followed his gaze to the top of the stairs, where a couple prepared to descend.

  She clamped her mouth shut. The last thing she needed was another hint of scandal, which would erupt should she be discovered alone in the garden with a strange man. She shook her head with frustration. Why did she always seem to land herself into these situations?

  The glowing tip of the cheroot sailed to the ground, the stranger’s boot heel silently coming down to crush the life out of it. They stood frozen while the couple walked down the stairs chatting, passing Willa and the stranger, who remained hidden by the greenery.

  The man’s tall, substantial form stood so near that his body heat lapped at her. He smelled intoxicatingly fresh, like soap, as though he’d just scrubbed himself clean, intermingled with the distinctive scent of tobacco. A heightened sense of her own physicality zipped through Willa; her breathing sounded unnaturally loud; the beat of her heart clanged a clumsy beat; and her skin warmed despite the evening chill. Dazed and disconcerted by her peculiar bodily reaction to him, she shrugged his hand off the moment the couple moved out of earshot.

  “Please unhand me, sir,” she said, her tone frosty as she stepped away to regain her bearings.

  “Given the follies of your past, as you yourself describe them, I took it upon myself to spare you any further embarrassment.”

  Beastly man. Inside, she churned with humiliation, but on the outside, her face assumed the cool, imperious c
loak it wore so well. The one that kept people at bay.

  “Surely I deserve words of praise from the lady,” he continued, “rather than her scorn?”

  “Alas,” she said tartly, “the words you truly deserve would never pass a lady’s lips.” Perfecting her posture, she turned away. Taking pains to appear unhurried, she sailed back up the stairs while his quiet laughter drifted behind her in the darkness.

  Other books by Entangled Scandalous

  Romancing His English Rose by Catherine Hemmerling

  Rose Warren and Simon Trumbull may have been betrothed since birth, but that doesn’t mean they have to like each other. Rose is sure the notorious playboy Simon will never willingly settle down, and Simon, well…he agrees. Never one to be forced into anything, he’d rather drink and gamble with his mates than spend time with the bookish, bespectacled Rose.

  When the two are thrown together to investigate a potential poisoning mystery, neither expects the sparks that fly. Simon discovers that Rose is, in fact, a brilliant sleuth and—even better—hides a delectable body beneath her flowing skirts. Suddenly, falling into bed may be the best idea either has heard, but can Simon convince Rose his romancing is forever?

  Her Wicked Sins by Sarah Ballance

  On a moonless night, he rides into the winter forest on his beast as black as midnight….

  Dashing stranger, Henry Dunham, comes to Salem on a mysterious errand, but is thrown from his horse in the dead of night and rescued by the local Puritan midwife, Lydia Colson.

  Haunted by her past, Lydia is running from her own dark secrets, avoiding intrusive questions by pretending her dead husband is simply…away. But when she and Henry are caught in a compromising situation, one punishable by Puritan law, he saves her from scandal by claiming to be her errant spouse…and claiming her bed.

  Forced to fake a marriage, Lydia and Henry find their passion overwhelming and their vows a little too real. As their lies become truths, a witch hunt closes in on Lydia, threatening not only their burgeoning love, but her life.