A Wicked Scandal For The Bluestocking (Steamy Historical Regency)

by Lucinda Nelson

  Whatever it was, she found her mouth suddenly open to his, his tongue pressing against hers. She whimpered as a strange sensation went through her body. She had never before realized how sensitive her mouth could be.

  Eric pulled back, looking slightly spooked. “I’m sorry,” he said immediately, taking his hands away from her. But Charlene chased him with her lips, unable to let him go so easily.

  Their next kiss was even more passionate, Eric’s tongue even more insistent against hers, his lips moving roughly against hers.

  It made a hunger well up inside of Charlene. Was this what it was like, to desire someone?

  If this was mere desire, she could only imagine what it would feel like to have something more. Like she was being swallowed whole by her passion. But in such the best way.

  Eric’s hand rested high on her leg, and even through the layers of her dress and petticoats, she imagined she could feel the heat of it. It was almost more than she could take, but she never wanted it to end.

  Yet then, they hit a bump on the road, an errant cobblestone, and Charlene remembered where they were. She pulled away, looking at him with surprised eyes.

  Had they really let it go so far?

  Eric looked abashed and embarrassed, though, and Charlene knew that she needed to stop him before he apologized. It had been her, as much as him. Maybe more so.

  She knew that he must be courting someone, perhaps the Lady Annabelle. He wouldn’t want to throw all of that away. She must have somehow started this incident.

  She pressed her finger against his lips, watching the way his pupils darkened with lust at the touch. It sent a shiver through her, but she knew she had to end things now. They had already gone too far.

  “I’m sorry I never returned your letters,” she said softly, surprising herself with the words. “You were always on my mind.”

  Eric’s eyes widened, and Charlene looked uncomfortably away. She had said too much, she was sure. Fortunately, they were pulling up in front of her family’s home even as she said that, and she could make her escape.

  “Thank you for today,” she said hurriedly. “And do let me know if you find out anything more about my father’s case. I shall keep you informed as well.”

  The words were formal, and they were nothing like what she would have liked to say to the man. But the next thing she knew, she had all but tumbled out of the carriage and fled for the front door.

  She hoped beyond hope that no one had happened to oversee the two of them together, and that her Aunt Helene wouldn’t notice how red and flushed her cheeks, her lips, her entire body was.

  Thankfully, her aunt didn’t seem to be home yet, which meant that there was no one there to comment. Charlene went immediately to her room, shutting the door behind her and leaning back against it, trying to calm her breathing and the beating of her wild heart.

  Chapter 10

  Lord Eric Cumberland, Duke of Havenport

  One of the things that Eric never minded, since he had become duke in his father’s stead, was riding around his dukedom and seeing to the various complaints of his tenants.

  Curiously, it was one of the things that his father had always hated the most: the man had seen it as a long and tedious process, and one that he could better delegate to someone else.

  Oh, he had still had plenty of rapport with his tenants, but Eric had immediately decided to do things differently than his father had.

  In his opinion, the differences had already paid off. Any complaints that Eric received now, even so short after he had taken over after his father’s death, tended to be legitimate, and it was a quick and easy matter to arbitrate over them, with both parties eventually deciding that Eric’s rulings were fair.

  Now, he had the long ride back to London ahead of him, but he couldn’t help feeling proud at the day’s work. His tenants were happier than ever, and it showed in their fields.

  Happy tenants meant more care went into their fields, which meant a higher yield, barring some catastrophe, which meant that at the end of the day, his own coffers were enriched.

  He finally reached his manor, feeling dusty and worn out from the road. But one of his servants immediately found him as he came in the front door.

  “My lord, there’s a man waiting here to see you,” he said, sounding nervous.

  The man was usually nervous. Eric wished there were some way for him to convince the servant that Eric was never going to be angry with him for these perceived problems. Things were worse in the man’s head than they would ever be in reality.

  Only time would cure the man’s fears, he knew.

  “Where is he? Who is he?” Eric asked immediately. “Did you tell him I was out?”

  “I did,” Michael said. “He wanted to wait, though.” The man swallowed hard. “It’s, um, Lord Ambrose, um, Johns? Mar-Marquess of…” He trailed off, clearly not remembering.

  “That’s all right,” Eric said immediately, wondering what a Marquess would be doing here to see him. And so impatiently too! He was surprised that the man had opted to wait for his return rather than scheduling a time to meet.

  He wondered if it had anything to do with Dr. Ellington’s case and the interest that he had shown in it. Word must have reached at least a few people, by now, that he was asking.

  He headed into the study after only a cursory dust-off of his clothing. “Lord Ambrose,” he said as the other man got to his feet.

  The Marquess’ lips tightened into a thin line, and Eric could tell that he was displeased. By what, Eric’s state or his reception of him? It wasn’t as though the man had given the young duke proper notice of his impending visit!

  “As you likely realize, I’m the chief investigator in Lord Henrich’s case,” the man said coolly, and Eric stared at him for a beat, connecting the dots.

  Lord Ambrose DuBois Johnson, Marquess of Wesborough. Eric didn’t know the man in person, but he had certainly heard of the man before.

  He was a titled man with a career that he had gained after a stint in the military. He had a reputation for being a hard and unfeeling man, which was part of what made him an excellent investigator.

  It was also part of what made it so unnerving to have the man staring seriously at Eric in his receiving room.

  “I understand that you brought Miss Ellington to see her father at Newgate,” Lord Ambrose continued, with a long-suffering look on his face.

  “Even I have to admit that your intentions of helping her were honourable. You saw a poor woman and brought her to see her father one last time before his trial. What could be more noble than that. I just wanted to make sure you remembered how dangerous it could be for you to get tangled up in the man’s case. It could put you into a…precarious position.”

  There was a long silent in the room. Eric wasn’t sure what to say in response. He could tell that Lord Ambrose was trying to intimidate him, but although the man and his reputation were certainly daunting, he knew that he couldn’t cave to that.

  “I know that the people defending Lord Henrich are out for blood,” he finally said smoothly. “But I also know that cries for vengeance aren’t all that the courts are interested in.” He met Lord Ambrose gaze for hardened gaze and was rewarded with a twitch in the older man’s jaw.

  “They’re not just out for vengeance,” he finally said. “The evidence against the man is irrefutable. It would be best for you to move on. And to not give a hapless female as Miss Ellington false hope that her father might be acquitted.”

  Eric could feel his jaw clench at that. What a pompous ass. Giving Miss Ellington false hope? He had done nothing of the sort. How would Lord Ambrose know, anyway? The man hadn’t been there.

  He must have heard some sort of report from the warden. That small man with his grudges. Eric wished that he could have further words with the man, but hell if he was going to return to Newgate to tell the man to mind his own damned business.

  “I’m sure that when you consider the true facts,” Eric said ev
enly, “you’ll realize that Dr. Ellington is twice the man of most of the healers in this country. It is certainly unfortunate that Lord Henrich died from his maladies, however that does happen sometimes.

  “Indeed, I nearly lost my life of my own stupidity when I was younger, and it was only Dr. Ellington who managed to save me. If not for him, my father might have lost his heir a decade ago.”

  Lord Ambrose’s mouth twisted into a dark approximation of a smile. “Is that what your interest in this is?” he asked. “Interesting, I suppose.” He leaned in close. “You shouldn’t be involved in this, though. Trust me.”

  Eric drew himself up haughtily. It was a pose that he seemed to be affecting more and more frequently since he had become duke, and it wasn’t one that he liked.

  No one seemed likely to listen to him otherwise, though. In spite of the fact that he had been raised into this position over the course of his whole life, no one seemed to believe that he was really ready yet, or that he held the full authority of a duke.

  He seemed to have to remind everyone of his position, at every turn.

  Lord Ambrose’s lips twitched into a broader smile at the show, and Eric could only feel incensed. “It’s not in your place,” he told the chief investigator of the doctor’s case, “to tell me, a duke, what to do. I only hope that you do remember that. Marquess.”

  This time, Lord Ambrose’s face twisted into one of disgust. He headed towards the door. “As you like it, Duke Cumberland,” he said with mock deference. “I do believe that you will realize your mistake in supporting this man when he hangs, however.”

  He left before Eric could say anything else in response.

  The young duke felt his hands clench into fists at his sides. His blood was nigh boiling with fury. The arrogance of Lord Ambrose!

  He acted as though he had already made up his mind against the doctor, and as though he would rather condemn the man to death than hear the real truth of what had happened. Where was the justice in that?

  One thing was for sure: Eric knew that he couldn’t leave the doctor to a fate like that if the man was truly innocent. Not least of which because his daughter’s heart was involved in the matter.

  It would kill Charlene if her father was sentenced to hanging. She had been emotional enough just to see the man in prison. She had such a sweet temperament, and she truly believed that the system would come through and find her father innocent, if he was innocent.

  He was innocent. The more certain that Lord Ambrose seemed to want to convict the man, the more certain Eric was that he needed to find some way to prove it.

  He thought back again to that kiss that he and Charlene had shared in the carriage on the way back to her aunt’s home.

  Those kisses, in fact. There had been more than one, although they had stopped before there had been more than kissing.

  Eric wondered, however, if they truly would have stopped if it hadn’t been for their arrival at Charlene’s home, at the most inopportune of moments.

  Would she have allowed him to take things further? She had said that she had been thinking about him, all of these years. She must have been thinking about that kiss.

  What’s more, she had kissed him again with a passion that had surprised him.

  Oh, she was inexperienced; that much was obvious. Eric had had to tilt her head to the side to improve the angle. Her lips had been clumsy against his. But he would rather a thousand inexperienced kisses from her than…

  Well. The trouble was, Charlene didn’t seem wholly interested. She had been thinking about him all of these years, but she had never once written to him. She kissed him now, and then ran away before there could be anything more than a couple kisses.

  Eric supposed that he couldn’t blame her. After all, the only reason that she could be unmarried at her age was that she wasn’t interested in being married.

  Eric was certain of that. The woman was too attractive to be unmarried otherwise. And why else would she hold back on her reasons for remaining unmarried, than if she had something embarrassing to confess about how she wasn’t interested in being married?

  She might not have a high standing in society, but it was high enough that there were plenty of men who would be interested in her. She was beautiful, with good curves, from a family who, while not wealthy, were able to provide for a dowry.

  Besides, not everyone was worried about marrying for standing at this point. Eric knew that he wasn’t.

  As much as he knew that Annabelle’s dowry was certainly desirable, as were her connections, he couldn’t help but think that he was settled enough into his position that all he really wanted was a beautiful woman whom his tenants could speak with while he was off in other parts of the realm.

  No, she must simply not want to be married. She must simply not want him.

  But Eric couldn’t stop thinking about those kisses, and he knew in his heart that he couldn’t bear to let her down when it came to her father. No, the young duke had to find some way to prove Dr. Ellington’s innocence. He just had to.

  Chapter 11

  Miss Charlene Ellington

  Charlene was midway through composing a letter thanking Eric for bringing her to see her father when there was yet another visitor at her aunt’s home.

  She set aside the letter, then on second thought put it away in one of the drawers of her desk, locking it with a small key. It wouldn’t do for someone to see the draft.

  She hadn’t told her aunt about the visit, and she was sure that Helene would have words to say about Charlene going off in a carriage alone with a young bachelor. The last thing the family needed at the moment was another scandal to tarnish their reputation.

  If Helene only knew what had transpired on the carriage ride back from Newgate! But that was a secret that Charlene would take with her to the grave.

  Charlene entered the sitting room, looking between her aunt and the unfamiliar, well-dressed man standing there. “Miss Ellington,” he greeted her warmly. “I am Lord Ambrose Dubois Johnson, Marquess of Wesborough. I am the head investigator on your father’s case.”

  “Oh!” Charlene said in surprise. Was the Marquess here with good tidings or bad? What Charlene would give to know! Not that she could be so bold as to ask him. All in good time. She seated herself beside her aunt and accepted the cup of tea that she was handed.

  Across from her, Lord Ambrose seated himself, his eyes still on Charlene. There was something in his gaze that made Charlene uncomfortable, but she dismissed it as her overactive nerves.

  No doubt the man was only continuing to stare at her because he expected her to come up with some sort of response to the fact that he was here.

  Suddenly, Charlene felt a flash of horror. Did the Marquess know about her visit to Newgate with Eric? Would he mention something about the visit in front of her aunt?

  Helene would never forgive her if she was caught out as a fool in front of the investigator. But it was too late to say anything in private now.

  Charlene fixed a smile on her face. “I hope that it is good news that you’ve brought with regards to my father’s case,” she said.

  Lord Ambrose grimaced, the expression creasing his greasy face. “Unfortunately, all of the evidence seems to be against your father,” he said.

  “We have letters from the apothecary’s assistant saying that your father not only asked for medicine to treat a stomach malady but that he signed off on the medicines to be the correct ones that he wished for. Yet your father’s records, and Lord Henrich’s servants, all say that the man was diagnosed with gout.”

  He cleared his throat delicately. “And of course, the medical colleges have sworn that the medicine that Lord Henrich was given was of exceptionally strong nature. It’s no wonder the man’s spleen burst, causing his untimely death.”

  Charlene shook her head, willing herself not to hear the news. “But he’s innocent, I know he must be. There must have been some foul play. My father would never have knowingly given the man the
wrong medicine. What would his motive have been?”

  “There are plenty of reasons why Lord Henrich’s death may have benefitted your father,” Lord Ambrose said, and even though Charlene realized that the man was trying to sound saddened by the news, he was still looking at her with those dark, piercing eyes.

  Something about his demeanour made Charlene sure that the man didn’t care a whit for her father. That perhaps he would be happy to send the man to the gallows.

  Meanwhile, the man was droning on about the various ways that the doctor might have benefitted from the Lord’s death.