Scandal's Deception

by Pamela Gibson

  “What was your horse’s name in your fantasy?”

  “Ghost, of course. Something that would disappear in the fog, never to be seen again because I would not rob the same person twice. That would be ungentlemanly.”

  She giggled and hid her face in her hands to stifle the sounds.

  “What’s so amusing?”

  “That you would be thinking about honor while doing something dishonorable.”

  “Hmm. I never thought of it that way. I was about the same age you were, so I can be forgiven.” He stretched his legs out in front of him, leaning back on his elbows. “What of you now? What is it you want out of life?”

  Jane tucked her legs under her skirt, removing a small rock pinching her knee and tossing it away. “In Baltimore, I expected to continue to live with Papa. He would need someone to care for him in his old age, and I had already started to help him with his legal research. While women were not allowed to study the law, I often thought how wonderful it would be if I could enter some kind of profession. I had told myself I could still be useful to Papa. I could accomplish a great deal and maybe do some good by influencing Papa to accept cases from those who couldn’t afford representation.”

  “And now you’re here stuck with a society you want no part of and rules you’d rather not know, let alone follow.”

  “My opportunities here seem less obvious, but I haven’t explored them yet. Perhaps I could become a midwife or a teacher. We had dame schools in Baltimore, places where educated women taught young girls to read, write, and cipher in their homes. Perhaps I could start one here.”

  His laughter was deep and rich, and his expression, while skeptical, was not unkind.

  “I think you will do whatever you put your mind to, and society be damned. But not until you reach your majority.”

  “You’ll prevent me?”

  “For your own good, yes. But, Jane”—he took her ungloved hand in his—“’tis only for a year. Then I shall have no say.”

  She pulled her tingling hand away, heat flowing through her body from his touch. “There is that. I do have a question. Will I have enough funds to pay the staff and care for the upkeep of the property? We haven’t discussed that part of my inheritance yet.”

  It worried her because she would be the responsible one—not only for herself, but for others who would rely on her. She couldn’t be a governess or a companion. Those acceptable positions for a woman of good birth would require her to live elsewhere, and now that she’d seen the property, she wanted to live here.

  “Your father had investments, and there will be income from those business ventures for you and your sister.”

  “Will it be enough?”

  He turned, and the amused look on his face was disconcerting. “I believe your father expected—perhaps hoped—you would find someone to marry. In society, that’s how aristocratic women are cared for. By husbands.”

  “Are you telling me the funds from Papa’s investments won’t be enough to run two households? Mine and Jocelyn’s?”

  He turned back and faced the sea. “I am not saying that at all. I believe Jocelyn is well on her way to finding someone to spend her life with. Perhaps once she’s married, she can introduce you to appropriate suitors.”

  Anger singed her insides. “You know I do not wish to marry. I value my independence. Men have too much power over their wives. Especially here.”

  Seeing him rise, she got herself up, knowing he would assist her if she stayed where she was, but not trusting the emotions building inside.

  The wind intensified, and a few whitecaps appeared on the water below. A strong gust wrestled her loosened bonnet from her head, blowing it toward the edge of the cliff. She chased it and picked it up before it blew away.

  “Jane. Move away from the edge.” Ralston’s voice carried on the wind. Before she could step back, another gust propelled her forward.

  Strong arms enfolded her and practically dragged her away from the precipice. Breathing heavily, she turned to see her guardian’s worried face.

  “Why didn’t you heed my warning?”

  “I bent to retrieve my bonnet.”

  “You can buy another bonnet. Never do that again. In fact, I forbid you to walk out here. This path is not stable. A man slipped on that path you see in the distance and slid down the face of the cliff. Luckily he wasn’t alone and was rescued. It was a near thing.”

  “You can forbid me to do things now. In a year’s time, I shall be on my own, and if I want to stand here and stare out to sea, I shall do so.”

  “Stubborn, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. I am. What are you going to do about it?”

  She’d forgotten how gorgeous his eyes were, even now as they stared into her own, a flare of heat making her think of the defiance literally melting away inside her. Her heart beat wildly as his arms tightened and he drew her to him. When he lowered his mouth to hers, she sighed and met him willingly. His lips were soft and smooth, pressing gently at first, then harder until she opened her own and let his tongue caress the inside of her mouth.

  Her arms circled his neck so she could move closer, trying to soothe an unknown ache in her breasts, to ease a need she’d never felt before, one that compelled her to rub her body against his.

  Abruptly, he stepped back. “Please forgive me. I seem to be making a habit of this.”

  She brushed her knuckles along his jaw. “I’m not sorry. I’ve never had a real kiss before. Not a peck, was it? Consider it part of the ‘talk’ about rogues.”

  He held her gaze one last time, offered his arm, and they silently strolled back into the house.

  Chapter 21

  They left the next day, knowing a rough trip lay ahead. Soft rain started in the night, and they needed to get to a better road before the storm intensified and the lane became too muddy to travel.

  Even though deucedly uncomfortable, Gilbert rode outside, not wishing to force his presence on her after what happened yesterday.

  Fine guardian you are, Ralston.

  He couldn’t believe he’d lost control, but when Jane had scurried to the edge to retrieve her bonnet, his heart had lurched, and he’d sprung to action, grabbing her to prevent her from slipping on the loose soil and falling over the edge. She’d been too close, and he’d once witnessed such a fall.

  Holding her, he’d given in to an impulse—one born of fear.

  An impulse totally inappropriate.

  His duty was to instruct and protect, not seduce.

  He hadn’t seen much of Jocelyn. At least she had her mother to look after her. If the duke’s son proposed as expected, he might be left with only one ward by summer.

  Soaked to the skin by the time he arrived in Painswick, Ralston made sure the women were safely in the house before proceeding to the stable to see to his horse. He left it with the stablemaster and strode to his chambers for a change of clothes. His valet, who’d been left behind for such a short trip, handed him a glass of brandy as he entered.

  “How was your trip, milord?”

  “Excellent until the weather changed.”

  “Lady Amelia asked me to inform you to wait on her in the parlor as soon as you can.”

  After helping him out of his wet garments, his valet gave him a robe and scurried off to order hot water for his ablutions.

  Sitting by a warm fire, Ralston sipped his brandy and reflected on the trip. Aunt Amelia will want to know what Jane thought of her inheritance. Their visit had been brief, and his report would be even briefer. He would not tell her of their conversation on the cliff and its aftermath. He’d keep those memories to himself.

  He admitted now to a growing affection for the girl.

  Do not jest, even with yourself. You’re falling in love for the first time in your life.

 
; He swallowed the last of the brandy and slammed the glass on the table next to him. How could he have allowed this to happen? Gilbert Carmichael, the Earl of Ralston, self-proclaimed bachelor, foolishly allowing his heart to rule his head? No. ’Twas a momentary lapse. From now on he would gather the remnants of his good sense, piece them together, and act in an appropriate manner.

  Then why had his body tightened with need as her soft lips opened beneath his?

  He rose and paced in the space available to him, halting as the door opened.

  “Sorry to take so long, milord. The fire had to be stoked to heat the water.” His valet set a pitcher next to an ewer and laid out a cloth and a drying towel.

  He performed his ablutions and dressed, foregoing the shave he badly needed. He’d kept Aunt Amelia waiting and was anxious to have company other than his own. He found her in the parlor, stitching in a small frame.

  “There you are. Jane is not with you?”

  “I’m sure she’s resting after the trip.”

  “I’ve told the cook to save dinner.” She waved him into a chair. “First, I need to talk to you.” Her brow wrinkled, and her unsmiling face told him something was amiss.

  “What is it? Has there been some kind of disaster at my estate again?”

  “No. No. Nothing like that. I’m glad Jane isn’t down yet. I’ve had some news. From London.”

  A slight puff of air wafted against his neck, raising the hairs there. “What is it?”

  “I’ve had a note from Lady Siltsbury. She wants you to bring Jane to London immediately.”

  He contemplated a nick on his hand. “Why? The birthday ball is in four days. I thought she wanted to spring her long-lost daughter on society after the event. Elizabeth told me I was to take her to my townhouse and hide her away there. As you know, I ignored Lady Siltsbury’s earlier request.”

  “It is curious. Her note said nothing more about her reasons. There were instructions that lead me to believe she is still going to keep the girl hidden. She said to dress her in black with a veil, like a widow, and hustle her in through the mews at the back of the house.” She paused. “Will you ignore this request as well?”

  “I’d like to, but my curiosity is tenfold. I take it she hasn’t had a pang of motherly longing to meet the child she abandoned.”

  “I agree. Something is afoot.”

  Jane sauntered in, her cheeks bright, and a curious smile on her face. “What’s afoot? I’ve come to abhor mysteries. Is there another?”

  Ralston spoke up. “Your mother has sent word to bring you to London.”

  She stilled. “When?”

  “We’ll leave tomorrow.”

  “So soon?” Panic laced her voice. She’d complained for weeks about her mother’s indifference, and now that she’d been summoned, she seemed almost afraid to go.

  He strolled over and tilted her chin with his index finger. “I know you’re tired from our journey, but the messenger said you were to come straightaway. If you don’t want to go, we’ll stay here.”

  “Will you come with me?” The look in her eyes reminded him of a frightened deer.

  “Yes. You won’t face her alone.” He dropped his hand and offered his arm. “Come. Aunt told cook to heat our dinners. I’m sure they are about to be served.”

  “Although I dined hours ago, I’ll join you,” said Lady Amelia. “I want to hear all about your impressions of Seacliff Cottage. Does it have a garden? Are there neighbors nearby? How close is the water?”

  Jane smiled through her obvious anxiety. Her eagerness to share her impressions seemed to war with the effect of the news she’d heard. Aunt Amelia was wise to draw her out and get her mind off the upcoming meeting. His ears tuned out the chatter. What was Lady Siltsbury planning? How would Jane be received? Something was strange about the entire request. Surely she didn’t want to announce her daughter’s arrival at the birthday ball. Such a pronouncement would diminish Jocelyn’s limelight.

  He wished his sister lived closer. Elizabeth would know more, and there wasn’t time to get a note off to her.

  The bowls of soup were hot, and he stopped thinking about possible scenarios while he assuaged his hunger. He slanted a glance at Jane and listened to her description of the antics of a newborn lamb in her barn. The mother had bleated her disapproval the entire time the lamb frolicked near the people standing a good distance away. Jane spoke with animation. But her hands clutched the edge of the table, her knuckles white—a sure sign of her agitation.

  “The ewe eventually nudged her babe away from us, glaring while she did it.” Jane’s laughter seemed forced.

  Maybe he was reading too much into this.

  “What did you think, Ralston?”

  “The ewe was a good mother, not letting her babe out of her sight. She didn’t want her ending up in a stew.”

  “Oh dear. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to eat lamb stew again,” Jane said.

  Aunt Amelia raised her wine glass to her lips. “If we considered the contents of everything we eat, we’d probably shrink two sizes. I, for one, do not think of the origins of my meal. Only its taste.”

  “Bollocks. I saw you reject a fish dish once.”

  “They served the fish in its entirety. I swear, the eyes stared right into mine.”

  Jane leaned back and raised her gaze to the ceiling. “Bollocks. What an interesting word. I shall have to look it up in the lexicon.”

  Ralston sputtered and snorted, quickly dabbing at his lips. “You shall not. I apologize for using such a word in front of ladies, and I daresay it will not be in the lexicon.”

  “Why not?”

  A red-faced Aunt Amelia shook her head. “’Tis not a word a lady would use.”

  “I see.” Jane kept eating. “Like damn, which is why I say Lordy as it’s shorter and more satisfying than Lord-a-mercy, my Baltimore housekeeper’s favorite expression.”

  At least they’d distracted her. Her shoulders seemed more relaxed and her smile more genuine. They finished their dinner and took tea in the parlor. Aunt Amelia took two sips and begged to be excused, leaving him alone with Jane.

  Jane got up to close the door, leaving it open a scant inch for propriety. Returning, she left her tea and sat next to him on the settee, frown lines marring her forehead. “What do you think she wants?”

  He honestly didn’t know what her mother planned. What he did know was the cowed creature in front of him was not the assertive, confident woman he’d come to know. He wanted to fold her in his arms and make all her tension go away. He wanted to whisper soothing reassurances in her ear and kiss away the lines making her face look frightened and insecure. He wanted to hold her so close he could feel her heart beating against his.

  None of this made sense. He was her guardian, protector of her assets, not a lovelorn suitor. He fought the feelings struggling to the surface and sat back into his seat.

  “I shall hazard a few guesses, and then I want you to go upstairs and instruct Mary to begin packing. Take all of your new gowns and fripperies. We’ll go in two coaches, and if you like, I’ll ride in the carriage with you.”

  “When do we leave?”

  “First light.”

  He swallowed his tea and set down the cup. “I know you’re thinking it’s odd timing, and while I would love to ascribe your mother’s motives to parental concern or longing for the daughter she hasn’t seen in decades, I’ll not insult you with those possibilities. Her entire life’s focus has been Jocelyn. Just as you were your father’s. Whatever this is, it concerns your twin.”

  “Nothing has happened to her, has it? We would have heard.”

  “I think not. Jocelyn was raised among all these strict rules you’ve been learning, and for her it’s a way of life. The birthday ball is her last opportunity to be the center of atten
tion before she is betrothed to the duke’s son and rules become even tighter—at least until she is married. I’m guessing she is not the type to want to share it with a sister.”

  “I don’t understand. The minute I enter the front door the staff will know, and you said servants gossip.”

  He sighed and allowed himself to hold her hand. “Jane. Look at me.”

  She raised her eyes to his, and God help him, her lower lip was trembling. He wanted to take it between his teeth and gently run his tongue across it before covering her mouth with his own.

  How had he gotten himself into this predicament? Oh yes, his dear sister Elizabeth who probably was the one who reported that Jane was ready to be received by society.

  “You will not be entering the front door. I’m to go to the mews and escort you through the garden to the rear of the house. We’ll be met by a servant who I am to alert with a message ahead of time. You are to wear a black cloak and a black bonnet with a heavy veil, similar to what a widow wears. From there I suppose you’ll be whisked up a back staircase, and no one will be the wiser.”

  She stood, wandered to a wooden table, and idly flipped the pages of a book. Closing it, she faced him. “This is bizarre. What is happening?”

  He rose and opened his arms, hoping he wouldn’t regret his impulse. She rushed into them, her head hidden in his shoulder. He held her, his heart overflowing with feelings he dared not put a name to. “It will be all right. I’ll be there to oversee whatever is afoot. My townhouse is a few streets away.”

  Her arms tightened about his body. He stroked her back and kissed the top of her head. When she calmed and moved back, he handed her a crumpled handkerchief she didn’t need. He’d expected her to cry. She hadn’t.

  She took a deep openmouthed breath. “I’m sorry for being such a ninny. I-I always wanted a mother. I was perplexed that Papa never remarried, and now I know why. Maddie tried to fill that empty spot and did quite well as far as teaching me household skills. She loved me, too. As did Papa. Yet I always felt something was missing.