It’s Beginning to Look a lot Like Scandal: 3 Steamy Christmas Historical Romances

by Reid, Stacy

  “Up to more mischief I see,” he murmured. “This I believe calls for some sort of punishment.”

  Graham admired her composure. She did not scream even though her alarm was evident.

  Lowering the hand pressed over her chest, she said, “You!”

  “Yes, me. Must we always meet like this, hmm?”

  She closed the drawer and narrowed her eyes at him. “Did you follow me?”

  “Of course.”

  “And whatever did you mean by ‘this calls for punishment’. Surely you jest.”

  Abandoning her scheme, Miss Middleton stood and sauntered toward him. Her scent of lavender and something mouthwatering and elusive assailed his senses. Sweet Mercy. “Were you not reneging on our agreement?”

  Delicate brows arched. “I was about to pen a note and you interrupted.”

  “A note to our parents.”

  A heavy fringe of sooty lashes framed her golden-brown eyes enchantingly. Those lashes now fluttered innocently at him. “Of course not.”

  “Liar,” he said with some amusement, irritated with himself to find anything humorous in her reactions. “You were going to send some message that would have them scrambling like puppets to meet each other in some secret place.”

  Her face flushed so becomingly. “I’ll never own that was my intention.”

  Something suspiciously like amusement colored her tone.

  Graham scoffed. “Of course not.” Would she ever stop her meddling ways?

  “Your mother remains indifferent to my father, why do you persist in playing the matchmaker?”

  “You do not know her like I do. She…mama is not indifferent, I assure you. She has guarded her heart very well after papa’s death, but it comes alive for Lord Deerwood.”

  His heart jolted. “You are a romantic.”

  “Unapologetically,” she said with a sweet smile.

  “Would you honor me with a dance, Miss Middleton?”

  The request startled them both.

  One hand pressed against her chest, and the more she stared at him the wider her lovely eyes got. “Here?”

  “No.”

  Amusement softened her lips. “Then where?” she asked softly, looking at him as if she were trying to decipher a puzzle.

  “In the ballroom.”

  She gave him an assessing glance, then lifted her chin a notch. “There will be much speculation should we return together.”

  Suddenly hating the distance between them, he pushed from the door and in three strides he was right there. Close enough where he could touch her.

  Her lips parted as she stared up at him, her breath hitching with a noisy inhale.

  “Perhaps at the next soiree then.”

  “Yes,” she said on a swallow. “At the next one.”

  “Callie?”

  She blushed at the intimate use of her name.

  “Yes?”

  “I am on to you and for the rest of the house party…I will not let you and your mischief out of my sight. Whatever you are planning, you can forget about it now.”

  She gasped her outrage and he dipped his head and caught it with his mouth. With a muffled groan, she tipped onto her toes and arched into him, opening her mouth for the demanding sweep of his tongue against the seam of her lips. He groaned at the sweet taste of her.

  The kiss ended as suddenly as it began when she wrenched her mouth free of his with a startled yet very aroused gasp. Her fingers came up to her lips, which were reddened and swollen from his kiss. He couldn’t apologize for it, not when kissing her had been in his thoughts for several hours, not when her lips had haunted him all of last night. The memory of the feel of her body against him, the taste of her, the little sounds she’d made when he had scandalously touched his tongue to her lips. That hot whimper had tormented him even his dreams.

  “I should apologize but it would make me a hypocrite.”

  “What are your intentions?” she asked with a voice that trembled. “Why…why do you kiss me?”

  “I have none,” he said with a touch of regret.

  She chuckled, shaking her head in amused disbelief. “You rogue! Keep your mouth to yourself.”

  Now it was her voice that seemed shaded with regret and longing.

  He scrubbed a hand over his face. She was right. He was acting the rogue. If he wanted her, he should damn well court her. Except he wasn’t certain he wanted her beyond the raw, physical attraction he felt.

  He should be treading with caution; instead he was being reckless. Scowling at his undisciplined reactions, he bowed, turned and left the library before he did something foolish like kiss her without thoughts of consequences or of tomorrow.

  Chapter 7

  Holliwell Manor was a majestic three-story building set in exquisite landscaped grounds. The house built to replace a less prestigious building was elegant and classical in design. Each elevation was majestic and fitting to the local scenery. The grounds were equally splendid, although the formal gardens could not be seen at their best at this time of year as few flowers blossomed. However, Callie could imagine it as a riot of colors in summer. Then the fountains, artfully placed statuary of ancient gods and goddesses, would be surrounded by leafy bowers and exotic flowers.

  There were pretty walks through the woodland interspersed with several well-placed gazeboes and some accurate recreations of ruins. The house had a wonderful conservatory and several greenhouses where fruit and flowers could be grown out of season. And despite the grandness of the estate she could not seem to escape the viscount. He shadowed her every move and he did it in such an innocent manner it appeared a coincidence. But Callie knew better. He did not trust her to leave their parents alone to find each other.

  A sinking sensation formed in the pit of Callie’s stomach. There really was no way to convince him she was not being mischievous. Drat! She scowled at the alarming and improper way he shadowed her for the entire morning. Surely people would start to think his behavior peculiar. Worse, she did not want to think about the way he had kissed her in the conservatory and then last night in the library.

  The rogue was getting bolder and she would be a liar if she claimed to hate his attention. Something wicked had bloomed inside of her with that first kiss. And then last night. Callie had dreamed of being kissed senseless, of being ravished and held in the viscount’s wicked embrace. She closed her eyes against the memories, but they came, uncaring of her resolve to forget the viscount.

  She gave her head a swift shake before her thoughts took her any farther down that scandalous and wanton memory. Everything must be about her mother and the earl finding their hearts with each other. Not the impossible attraction she felt for the man’s son. The Viscount had been playing billiards with Mr. Thomas Brampton earlier, and as soon as the young Lord Sherbrooke spied her, he had abandoned the man and the game to observe her. Shameful and outrageous! And worse, she blushed like a silly miss whenever their gazes collided.

  The memory of his kisses lingered in the air once they looked at each other. She swore every time she felt his stare, and whenever she returned his regard that wicked knowledge shone from him, and she would become warm and out of sorts in so many wretched ways.

  A panting Letty hurried over to her. “It is done! Mama is now by the lake, and I slipped the note beneath the earl’s door. Surely he will meet her there soon.”

  “Hush,” Callie said, glancing to see how close the viscount stood.

  She did not turn around, but she anticipated Viscount Sherbrooke to be right behind her.

  “Why are you whispering?” Letty demanded.

  “I do not wish Viscount Sherbrooke to know what we are doing.”

  “Are you certain the viscount is following you?” Letty asked, her eyes laughing. “I think your imagination is running amok! I daresay he does not notice us at all.”

  Interest flashed in her sister’s eyes. “I knew it! You blushed frightfully yesterday morning when you saw him. How is he aware of our antics?” he
r sister’s elegant brow winged upward. “Callie…are you blushing again?”

  With a scowl, she grabbed her sister’s arm and tugged her toward an unoccupied gazebo. She smiled politely at the few gentlemen and ladies strolling about. The morning was unexpectedly warm, but she sensed it would not last long, for she could see the rain clouds in the far-off distance. And her plan hinged on that rain actually appearing.

  “Will you tell me what happened with the viscount, or am I left to guess?”

  Looking about to ensure they had cleared all listening ears, she muttered, “He kissed me.”

  Letty faltered, forcing Callie to stop.

  “Twice.”

  “He kissed you…twice?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where?”

  Callie rolled her eyes. “On my shoulder.”

  “Upon my word! Why would he—”

  “Letty, for heaven’s sake! I was funning you,” Callie said, then lowered her voice to say, “he kissed my mouth and I…I kissed him back. In truth I have been able to think of little else.”

  “Oh, my.”

  Oh, my indeed.

  “Do you like the viscount? Because I do not think you can marry him and then his father marry mamma. Is that…is that even legal?”

  She flushed hot, and annoyance prickled her spine. “Letty you go too far. It was just a few kisses and you are suggesting marriage! I do not even like him!”

  Her sister folded her arms beneath her bosom and arched an elegant brow. “Then why did you allow him liberties?”

  Callie closed her eyes briefly. “I…I feel a bit foolish to say this but when he kisses me, I feel like he is the center of a storm and I am happy to be caught in it.” An odd sensation quivered low in her belly.

  Letty appeared at loss for words for several seconds, then said, “Is he courting you?”

  “He has no favorable intentions.” And Callie did not know if she wanted him to have any.

  In round-eyed astonishment, her sister glared at her. “That leech! Ruining Vinnette did not satisfy—”

  “He did not ruin her,” Callie blurted, disconcerted by how she wanted to defend him. Did she dare to really like the viscount?

  “Oh,” Letty said, her ire deflated. “Still…what did he mean by his kisses?” she asked with naïve curiosity.

  Callie lifted a shoulder in a shrug, not wanting to admit she had wondered the same thing for hours. Was he interested in her, or was he playing the libertine? “I do not want to think about that now…we need to direct all our efforts to Mama. She was refusing to come down this morning for fear of encountering the earl.”

  “Yes, I heard all those mutterings about the dreadful mistake she made. It took much convincing for her to accept the earl’s invitation to a stroll this morning,” Letty said with a heavy sigh. “Why did he not asked her to dance at last night’s soiree. It is evident the earl is shamelessly besotted. He danced with three ladies and not once with mamma. She was miserable for it.”

  “I think mamma is being too careful with her emotions, it makes her seems rather indifferent. Perhaps Lord Deerwood was uncertain. But he tried to make up for it this morning. We did shamefully eavesdrop, and the earl worked hard to persuade Mama to take a stroll with him,” Callie replied, wondering for the first time if she should allow the entire scheme to run its course naturally as the viscount suggested.

  Then she recalled how delighted her mother had seemed before she’d allowed the fear to burrow into her heart. But what did she fear? “Letty…do you think Mama is afraid to love again?”

  Letty swallowed, a shadow of pain darkening her eyes. “We all still miss Papa so dreadfully. Perhaps she is afraid. Mama did just now inform us we will quit the house party early!”

  They shared a speaking glance, and said in unison, “She is running!”

  Callie worried her bottom lip with her teeth. She wouldn’t want her mama to live with guilt about betraying Papa, and if there was a chance of that happening, then she may truly not be ready for a new love.

  “Oh Letty, I have been so single-mindedly concentrated on securing Mama’s happiness, I never truly expected that she would resist the earl when she so plainly admires him. We must put a stop to the rowing!”

  Letty nodded, and they hurried across the too-large lawns toward the lake in the distance. As they approached, she spied her mother peering up at the earl, a frown on her face. The man only seemed besotted while her mother appeared cautious.

  “Mama,” Callie cried, pressing a hand atop her head to secure her bonnet under the sharp gust of wind.

  Their mother turned and waved, a smile lighting her face. Their mother was still an extraordinarily gorgeous woman, without a hint of gray in her vibrant mass of primrose-colored hair. Her eyes were a pale green, and her figure had retained its elegant slenderness. As they drew closer, Callie spied the viscount ambling toward them from the impressive stables. He was devilishly handsome in an open black great-coat thrown over his dark blue jacket, gray waistcoat, dark trousers, and the de rigueur white shirt and cravat. His ebony hair was well groomed, and his beautiful dark blue eyes quickly scanned her body.

  Her breath hitched and she gasped as mortification raced through her heart. Thankfully, she had worn her best gown today with a green redingote and a stylish matching bonnet. She knew she was fetching to look at, and the appreciative glint in his eye warmed her. Callie dearly hoped her attraction to the man wasn’t visible for all to see. Worse, she did not want him to now believe she was trying to set her cap for him!

  She hurried her steps, wanting to reach her mama and save her from falling into the plot before the viscount arrived. But the wretched man increased his pace to match her strides. They arrived at their parents on the verge of breaking into all out sprints, as he blurted, “What a charming coincidence to find you here, Miss Middleton.”

  Callie’s thoughts churned, and she glared at the viscount. “I was about to see if Mama wanted to play croquet with a few of us by the eastern side of the lawns.”

  “The grounds are wet,” the earl inserted. “I would not recommend it.”

  “Yes, and Lord Prescott is urgently searching for you, Father. Something about the news of an investment you are both a part of.”

  The earl started in surprise. “He is?”

  “Quite so,” the viscount drawled.

  Callie gaped at him, suspecting that he fibbed. Her ire rose, for he was intent on sabotaging whatever he thought she planned.

  “Robert…” her mother began, “Oh! I meant to say, Lord Deerwood, please attend to your business.”

  Her mother failed to hide her deflation, and it made Callie realize that her mother’s desire for happiness may outweigh the fears which drove her earlier to decide to flee the house party. The nudge toward her heart’s desire was still needed.

  The earl seemed crestfallen. “I do suppose we could row on the lake another time, Lady Danby.”

  Callie touched their mother’s hand. “Mama, you’ve wished so very much to row—”

  “And father has been telling me how much he wished for news on the copper mines he’s invested in. Surely the rowing can wait.”

  “The boats are already prepared,” Callie interposed.

  She glared at him and fought not to squirm under the intensity of his stare.

  “And Lord Prescott is waiting,” the viscount drawled.

  Their parents’ gazes volleyed between them, and they shared a glance Callie could not interpret. Letty seemed amused and did nothing to hide her reaction.

  Her mother chose that instance to say, “I do know you also enjoy rowing, my dear. Why don’t you take the boat out with the viscount? I did not sleep well last night, and I fear it has brought on a mild headache. I should rest before it becomes a greater discomfort.”

  “Yes, I would be honored to show you the lake, Miss Middleton,” the viscount said, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I am sure it will be a relaxing endeavor.”

  Callie swallowed
the sound of outrage welling in her throat. It wouldn’t do for anyone to see how much he annoyed her. Her mother turned bright, curious eyes to her, and a heaviness settled in Callie’s stomach. There would be no getting her mama and the earl into the boat now. Perhaps the rain would not come at all, and her twitching nose had been an anomaly.

  “Perhaps for a few minutes, I believed rain might come soon,” she said, admitting that her agreement was because she wanted to spend a few minutes with the viscount.

  Callie had never been the sort of person to shy away from complicated situations, she preferred to understand them, and the curious sensations stirring in her heart caused by the viscount warranted close examination.

  “Oh, my daughter has a nose for sensing the rain,” the viscountess said with an airy laugh. “It is indeed fascinating.”

  “How curious then she would want you to be caught in the rain, my lady,” Graham speculated, his cynical eyes pinning her.

  She refused to squirm. Callie couldn’t very well admit that she had been hoping the rain would trap their parents once they’ve reached the far end of the lake. That would violate the agreement between her and the viscount. Dusk would arrive, and with the rains, it would be impossible to return, and they would be forced to spend the night in the cottage she and Letty had painstakingly arranged to be aired and cleaned!

  A few minutes later, she sat comfortably in the rowing boat with the viscount. Her mother, Letty, and the earl had waved them off before walking away. Now that she was alone with the man, an unexpected wave of shyness consumed Callie. The silliness of it made her frown several times, and the dratted man did not help by staring at her. His powerful shoulders lifted as he clawed back the oars taking them across the wide picturesque lake.

  “I do not think we should go too far,” she warned.

  He glanced at the sky. “I doubt we have much to worry about.”

  “Do not be deceived by the sun, my nose has been twitching!”

  That drew a smile from him. “Twitching?”

  “Yes. I could be reading or taking a stroll or eating breakfast with my family, and my nose just moves on its own. It smells or senses the rain.”