Have Yourself a Merry Little Scandal: a Christmas collection of Historical Romance (Have Yourself a Merry Little... Book 1)

by Anna Campbell

  Tension throbbed through her body. She was desperate to reach that final climax. After tearing his mouth away, Harry rose over Alice and thrust two fingers deep into her heat. He continued to run his thumb around the edge of her bud, teasing cries and groans from her.

  She met his gaze, hungry and urgent. It was as if his green eyes had turned ablaze. The passion on his face was breathtaking.

  “Come for me, Alice. Break free of that cage and embrace who you are.”

  “Kiss me,” she demanded.

  He wiped his face on the edge of her torn corset, then captured her lips. As his tongue pressed into her mouth, his fingers thrust deep into her sex. Alice clutched at the soft linen of Harry’s ridiculous toga, tearing it between her fingers as she sought to find purchase in the swirling maelstrom.

  One hard, final thrust pushed her over the edge. She came hard, screaming. “Harry!”

  He kissed her once more, while continuing to stroke her as she lowered from her climax. Her whole body still thrummed with pleasure.

  “Good girl. Now you get champagne,” he murmured.

  He got to his feet, leaving Alice lying on the floor. For a time, she lay staring up at the ornate cornice which edged the cream-colored ceiling, her heart still thumping hard in her chest. She had just had her first orgasm with a man, and it had been stupendous.

  Her brain, meanwhile, was still trying to make sense of it all. Of where she was and with whom. A matter of days ago, she only knew Lord Harry Steele by word of his reputation. And now . . . well, that had just happened.

  When her orgasm-scrambled mind finally took in her surroundings once more, Alice sat up. Across at the table, Harry was busy pouring champagne into a glass.

  “I think I may have to hide this corset from my maid. She might ask questions as to what happened to it,” she said.

  He wandered back over to her and helped Alice to her feet. “I could explain it to her if you like. Or you could just leave it here.”

  She returned his cheeky grin with a soft chortle. The less any of the North family servants knew about her secret, scandalous life, the better. There was already more than enough explaining to be done when her parents returned to England.

  With champagne glasses in hand, they settled onto the sofa. Harry drew Alice into his arms, brushing a kiss on her forehead.

  “I’m proud of you tonight. You stayed when many other women would not have done so. And you shared a part of yourself with me that honestly leaves me humbled.”

  This evening had been one of many revelations. She had placed her trust in Harry and allowed herself to come under his careful loving. What she had learned about herself and her desires, however, would take some careful thought and reflection.

  Alice had an ever-growing list of questions to ask Harry about his life, but now didn’t seem the right time. They had shared an intimate moment, one where she had offered her body to him freely.

  She didn’t want to think about how many other women he had brought to this place. Nor which of them had also fallen to Harry’s tempting touch and foolishly offered him their hearts.

  Here am I trying to save Patience from making a stupid mistake, and yet I could be doing something even worse.

  The irony of the situation was all too clear.

  “What happens now?” She left it an open-ended question, allowing Harry to decide the direction his answer would take.

  “We finish our champagne, and I take you home. As for our friend, Mister Saint, I am expecting some reports to arrive tomorrow regarding him and his provenance. Once I have those, we should make some decisions. I have a feeling time may not be on our side,” he said.

  Alice pulled out of Harry’s embrace and sat up, setting her champagne glass on the floor. She pulled the ripped corset free and set it aside. Here seemed as good a place as any to abandon it. She began to work the laces of her gown as best she could. Focusing on dressing seemed the best response to her disappointment at him failing to mention either them or what had just occurred.

  Perhaps he is angry. Was he expecting me to pleasure him? Of course, he was.

  She turned and laid a hand softly on his knee, brushing her fingers up and down.

  His hand stilled hers. “No. Now is not the time.”

  “You don’t want me to do anything for you?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “The only thing I want you to give me is not mine to claim. Only the man you choose to marry has such a right.”

  Alice withdrew her hand. Harry’s words were clear enough. He was prepared to take their sexual relationship only so far. Anything that would compel him into making an offer of marriage to her was not a part of those plans.

  He did say we might be a part of each other’s lives for a time. He didn’t say forever.

  “Would you please take me home?” she asked.

  She chided herself for being foolish enough to allow her growing crush on him to whisper promises of a future—the only solace being that Harry at least had the good sense to know where to draw the line.

  If he had asked ‘May I?’ I might have said yes. Thank god he didn’t.

  To a man like Harry, Miss Alice North was likely nothing more than just another interesting diversion—one of many in his colorful, scandalous world.

  The sooner they had the matter of Cuthbert Saint sorted, the quicker she could conclude her contract with Lord Harry Steele and be out of his life. He would go on to his next client, and she would be left to tend to her wounded heart.

  Foolish girl. Perhaps you are better off in your cage.

  Chapter 13

  “Where did you get to last evening?” asked George.

  Harry gave a disinterested shrug. “Out and about.” He wasn’t going to make mention of Alice or their visit to the Temple of Diana. Fortunately, the club was one with strict rules regarding discretion. Names were never spoken outside of its walls. Many of Harry’s former clients were members, and he knew enough dirty secrets about them to be confident that his visit would not be mentioned by anyone.

  They were waiting at the RR Coaching Company offices for Stephen and Monsale to arrive with news of Cuthbert Saint. Harry’s mood was dark. The three cups of black tea—no lemon, no milk, no honey—which he had already downed this morning had done nothing to lighten his spirits.

  Perhaps I should have begun the morning with whisky. Start as you mean to go on.

  George frowned at him. If anyone could read people as well as Harry, it was the master thief. “You are certainly Lord Misery Guts this morning. Maybe I don’t want to know where you went last night.”

  “It’s not that. Things in this case have become a little complicated. And then there is the question of Milton,” replied Harry.

  “The piglet? What’s wrong with him?”

  “Papa’s breeding manager sent word that he needs Milton in the country,” he replied.

  All his life, even after he and his father had fallen out, Harry had taken care of the youngest male breeding pigs for the Steele family estate. From the time the piglets were weaned off their mother, to the time they were put to stud, they were Harry’s to care for and feed.

  George sighed. This wasn’t the first time any of Harry’s friends had been forced to give him sympathy over a curly tailed piglet. “You do know he is going off to the country to live a life that few humans, let alone animals, ever get to enjoy? Eating, sleeping, and fucking. Where do I sign up?”

  Talk of Milton kept the subject of Alice North at bay; she was the real reason for his melancholy mood. Last night had been magical. The expression of joy on her face as he’d brought her to completion had gone straight to his heart.

  And then she’d cried out his name. Harry. A man would have to be made of stone not to fall in love with a woman right at that moment.

  But you were already in danger of falling. Holding her just tipped you over.

  Any thought of not getting involved with Alice North had long ago gone up in flames. He wanted her, body and
soul.

  The only thing which had held him back last night and stopped him from asking ‘May I?’ was that he’d known to his bones that she would have said yes. And he would not have been able to resist.

  Saving Patience North from one imprudent marriage while luring her sister into another would defy all the laws of irony and logic.

  If she is to be yours, you have to offer her everything. And that includes the truth.

  The thought of telling Alice about the RR Coaching Company and its dubious business enterprises made Harry’s mouth go dry. Coming from new money, she must already know what it was like to be treated as someone less than equal by London high society. What was the chance that she would choose him if she knew that being a part of his life would mean accepting that her husband was regularly involved in shady and downright illegal dealings?

  Would she take that risk, knowing that if things ever went awry, her reputation would be destroyed?

  The thunder of boots on wooden stairs heralded the arrival of Sir Stephen Moore and The Duke of Monsale. Harry was grateful for the interruption. The question of Alice and any possible future with her had kept him awake all through the night.

  “Ah, just the man we want,” said Monsale.

  Harry moved away from where he and George had both been toasting their asses in front of the fire. After the long chilly walk up from the River Thames, a few minutes of buttock warming was always in order at this time of the year.

  “We have news,” announced Stephen.

  Monsale tossed a leather pouch onto the long wooden table, before heading over to the nearby sideboard on which a platter of various meats and some cold roast potatoes sat. Stephen followed him, grabbing two plates from off the table as he went. His gaze went to the fireside and he grinned as Harry wriggled his backside.

  “Cuthbert Saint is no saint. Never went to Eton. In fact, there is no record of him anywhere. The man does not exist,” added Stephen.

  “But . . .” said Monsale, with a raise of his eyebrows.

  Harry’s ears pricked up. Monsale always proceeded the juicy, noteworthy bits of any investigation or scandal with that tantalizing word. He and Stephen exchanged a grin.

  “What we do have is a missing valet. A chap by the name of Cuthbert Leigh who used to work for a Scottish family just across the border. Disappeared about six months ago after having helped himself to a number of valuable pieces of plate and jewelry belonging to his employer. The description of this Cuthbert matches the blackguard we have been following here in London.”

  All the fragments of the picture slowly drew closer together. The man who knew how to treat champagne stains had been a valet. And they now knew the origin of the expensive trinkets Cuthbert had pawned at Jones and Son.

  “Good, so we are pretty confident we have the make of him. Now I have to decide what to do about getting him away from Patience North,” said Harry.

  Time was of paramount importance. Notwithstanding the fight that the two of them had had the previous evening, Harry suspected there was every chance that matters between Alice’s sister and Cuthbert would be back on even keel quickly. With Cuthbert’s coin becoming low, he would likely do everything he had to in order to be able to make a move with Alice’s sister.

  “I need to speak with my client this morning. Inform her of these developments and get her approval to make the next move,” he said.

  Monsale’s brows knitted together in a worried expression. He wasn’t one for ever asking a woman her opinion. The fact that he was still unwed at the age of one and thirty probably had something to do with his inability to sweet-talk the ladies.

  “Why are you asking a prim little miss for her thoughts?” asked Monsale.

  George cleared his throat in an obvious attempt to stifle a laugh. Stephen, meanwhile, studied the platter of meats as if it held the secret to life and the universe.

  “Because, your grace, she is paying me. And I actually value her opinion when it comes to her sister. She is the one who is going to have to mop up the mess after all this is over. I would prefer it if the pile of shit she has to clean is as small as possible,” replied Harry.

  “Bah!” huffed Monsale.

  Harry picked up the satchel and made for the stairs. If he moved quickly enough and went back to Grosvenor Street, he could track Alice down this morning. “Thank you. This gives me all that I need to move on our friend Cuthbert. I shall send word again to our people in Gretna letting them know that a possible elopement may be imminent.”

  “Send word if you need help!” cried George.

  As he hurried to the rear mews and summoned the stable boy to fetch his horse, Harry took the opportunity to gather his thoughts. How am I to deal with this blackguard and cause the least amount of damage?

  Publicly unmasking Cuthbert could be problematic, as it could also expose Harry to scrutiny. His carefully crafted foppish personae had taken a long time to build. He wasn’t going to risk it just for the sake of expediency.

  Harry wasn’t a man with a penchant for violence, so having Cuthbert roughed up and left for dead would never be his first choice. Nor would any attempt to have him arrested be likely to succeed. Without the victim of the theft being able to bring charges, the authorities would have nothing to go on, and Harry was not going to risk Cuthbert facing the hangman over a few pieces of jewelry.

  He slipped a coin into the stable boy’s hand and took the reins of his horse. Apart from trying to talk Patience out of continuing to see Cuthbert Saint, there was really only one other sensible option left.

  “If it has to be, it has to be,” he muttered.

  All he had to do was to get Alice to appreciate the value of a firmly worded threat delivered at gunpoint.

  Chapter 14

  “Isn’t it divine? He is so thoughtful.”

  Alice swallowed the last of her breakfast and followed it with a gulp of tea. Listening to Patience carrying on over the bracelet that Cuthbert had sent as an apology would make anyone struggle to eat their food.

  Her sister waved the trinket in Alice’s face and she was forced to paint a smile on her lips in response. “Yes, it is pretty.”

  It was also cheaply made and would probably turn Patience’s wrist green before the day was out. Not that she would either notice or care. What likely mattered more to Patience was that Cuthbert had thoughtfully chosen a bracelet the same color as the new gown over which he and she had fought.

  After the less-than-satisfactory end to the evening with Harry last night, Alice didn’t feel up to playing the role of happy big sister this morning. Her heart ached too much.

  Seeing Patience gush over a man who could only bring her misery compounded her own sense of sadness.

  “I wonder if Cuthbert is going to be at any social gatherings this evening. I really should seek him out and give him my thanks. Mama always says you should do everything to help smooth over tiffs with your spouse,” said Patience.

  The mere mention of Cuthbert and spouse in the same breath had Alice wishing she hadn’t bothered with that second piece of pork pie. A knock at the door of the breakfast room stopped Alice from saying what she really thought of the idea of being related to Cuthbert Saint.

  Knowing her stubborn sister, if Alice said anything against him, Patience would start making plans to have the banns read.

  The North family butler entered carrying a silver tray, upon which sat a note. Alice silently prayed.

  Please. Please. Please, let it be a letter from Mama and Papa saying they are on their way home to England.

  If it were, she might still have a chance to convince her sister that any possible talk of marriage could wait until Cuthbert was able to speak with their father.

  She took the note and quickly read it.

  Developments on CS. Come to Grosvenor Street this morning. H.

  The man was nothing if not succinct with his words.

  If the note had not made mention of Cuthbert, she would have been tempted to ignore Harry’s
request. Instead she folded the paper and put it in her pocket.

  After downing the last of her tea, Alice rose from the table. “I have to go out this morning. Let’s discuss our evening plans when I return.”

  If Harry was looking to make a move on Cuthbert, she didn’t want to be caught wrong-footed at any social event. Keeping her sister away from being connected with a scandal was crucial.

  Half an hour later, Alice knocked on the front door of number 16 Grosvenor Street. Harry’s dark-clothed hulk of a butler answered the door, but this time she pushed past him and made for the stairs, leaving him to follow in her wake.

  She found Harry standing by the window in the drawing room; the piglet was nowhere to be seen.

  “Miss Alice North,” announced the butler.

  Harry nodded at him. “Alice, this is Sir Stephen Moore. He has been working with me on the case. Stephen is involved in the coaching company which I partly own.”

  Stephen bowed low. “At your service, Miss North.”

  “Service? Is that what you call answering the door rudely, not showing a lady to a chair, and generally doing a terrible job of being a butler?” she replied.

  He chuckled. “Yes, sorry about that. The first morning you came here, I wasn’t in the best of moods. You are not the only one with family problems.”

  She took the seat he offered, privately relieved when Stephen came and sat next to her. The last thing Alice wanted this morning was to be alone with Harry. The man himself strolled over to the center of the room and stood in front of a low coffee table, facing her.

  “You sent word that you had new information about Cuthbert.” Keeping her gaze firmly fixed on Harry, she pretended not to notice the look which passed between him and Stephen. She wasn’t here for niceties; she was here for answers.

  Harry cleared his throat. “Yes, we can confirm that Cuthbert did not attend Eton. We also have solid evidence that his name is in fact Cuthbert Leigh, and that until a matter of months ago, he was employed as a valet for a wealthy Scottish family. He has been funding his stay in London with the proceeds from the sale of items he stole from them.”