Improper Match: Scandalous Encounters

by Reed, Kristabel

  Hamilton’s appraising gaze did not waver. “She must be a comely little thing. If you want her, then why not simply have her?” He looked Edmund up and down and nodded as if he approved of Edmund. Edmund chose not to think on that.

  “You are an earl,” Hamilton said, as if reminding Edmund of some forgotten fact. “It should be a rather easy task.”

  “I would not ruin such a young lady in that manner,” Edmund told his friend, jaw clenched.

  He took a breath and reminded himself of Hamilton’s other fine qualities. Swallowing the sharp retort, Edmund added, “Especially not one who saved my life.”

  “My friend, don’t allow that mercy to distort your judgment,” Hamilton said harshly.

  “Nothing about my judgment is distorted,” Edmund said with exaggerated patience. The words shot between them like a bullet and Hamilton stepped back, his eyebrows raised. “And as you said, I’m an earl; I should have who I want.”

  “And what of your obligations?” Hamilton asked, but his tone had modified to a less acerbic one. “What of Miss Norwood?”

  Edmund flinched but shrugged it away. Leave it to Hamilton to bring up Miss Norwood. Because of that, when he spoke, it was harsher than Edmund intended. “It is not my responsibility to marry a distant cousin simply because her parents did not have the good sense to also have a son.”

  He stopped and regained his composure. Took a deep breath and controlled his tongue. “When her father passes, and should it come to that, I’ll offer Miss Norwood a cottage on my estate. But,” he reiterated, “she’ll never be my wife.”

  Hamilton merely nodded. “Your uncle will never approve your abandoning Miss Norwood.” He stopped, but when he spoke again, it lacked the rudeness of earlier. “Especially not with a merchant’s daughter.”

  Edmund raised an eyebrow and glanced at Hamilton. Immediately turning from his friend, he resumed his search for Selina Lyndell. He liked Miss Norwood well enough; she was polite and kind, a perfectly nice woman.

  But he felt no passion for her and did not think of her when they were not actively engaged in conversation. She was not the sort of woman he wanted as his wife. And he refused to bow to his family’s pressure.

  “My uncle can have Miss Norwood. Preferably far away from where I am.”

  And then Selina walked in.

  Edmund instantly dismissed his conversation with Hamilton and his entire being focused on Selina Lyndell. Whatever Hamilton had to say to Edmund, promises that were never really made to begin with and Selina’s so-called lower class vanished.

  She wore an ivory gown. From here, Edmund couldn’t see the decoration, but in the candlelight it looked like pearls dotted the bodice. Her black hair was swept back with simple silver combs; along her shoulders, her hair lay in small curls.

  She looked stunning.

  Edmund took a step closer, but Hamilton’s voice arrested him.

  “I see why you’re so insistent,” Hamilton drawled.

  Edmund shot him an angry look, but there was a hint of admiration in the other man’s gaze. He said nothing, but couldn’t stop a knowing smirk. With quick strides, he crossed the room to where Selina and Arthur stood.

  Octavia already arrived to greet them.

  Selina looked nervous, though she smiled at Octavia. He could tell, however; her gloved fingers were brushing down the skirt of her gown. Octavia said something; Edmund was still too far away to overhear, but whatever it was, it caused Selina to relax and laugh.

  He really did love her laugh.

  He’d love it more if her amusement was directed at him.

  “It was so nice to visit with you a few days ago,” Selina told Octavia, but her gaze drifted to Edmund.

  “And you, Miss Lyndell.” Octavia leaned forward and said just loud enough for Edmund to hear, “Thank you so much for helping my brother pick out my gift. He’d have the taste of a rhinoceros otherwise.”

  Selina laughed again, and Octavia gave him a cheeky grin. He didn’t care. Octavia straightened and said formally, “Miss Lyndell, please allow me to formally introduce my brother, the Earl of Granville.”

  She turned to Edmund with a knowing look in her eyes. “Edmund, Miss Lyndell.”

  Edmund took Selina’s hand and bowed over it. “A more proper introduction we could not have had.”

  He purposefully looked around, but when he returned his gaze to Selina, he saw understanding clear in her gaze. Her fingers had stopped their rhythmic brushing on her skirts, as well. The orchestra began a new tune, and he jumped at the chance to dance the quadrille with her.

  “Miss Lyndell,” he said with his best reserved-earl voice, “may I have this dance?”

  * * * *

  Selina curtseyed and accepted Lord Granville’s arm. It was difficult to think of him as an earl. To her, he was simply Edmund — the Edmund who made her laugh as they picked out hair combs for his sister.

  Or who looked at her with such an intense gaze, it had taken her breath away. Even now, days later, her heart beat heavily in her chest at the memory. At the want in his gaze. And at the answering flush of need in her own body.

  Though she’d hoped, Selina had not expected to ever see him again. He hadn’t offered his full name and while she had no real proof, there had to be thousands of Edmunds in London even in September.

  Now, as she smiled and took her place for the quadrille, her stomach fluttered with nerves. Despite her initial shock when Thompson, their butler, had announced him, Selina had wanted to see him again. She’d wanted to know more about the man who made her laugh then dragged her through dark passageways, away from a fire.

  Who had etched himself in her memory so indelibly, she’d forced herself not to continually speak of him to Annabelle. Selina had wanted to keep some of their private moments to herself. To relive them.

  When he’d yelled for her to leave him, he’d shown her how unselfish he was. Selina had encountered so many selfish men, but Edmund had been different from the start.

  It was silly and girlish, but no man had ever made her feel as Edmund had. She felt hot and flushed, her heart pounding, her lungs tight as she tried to take in a deep breath. For the first time in her life, she wanted a man.

  Her gaze drifted to his as they took their positions for the quadrille. Since her arrival, Selina found it almost impossible to not look at him.

  They moved seamlessly together, crossing the floor in the intricate contredanses. Crossing to the opposite partner, Selina tried to focus on the dance. She refused to embarrass herself with a misstep, but every time her path crossed with Edmund’s, when his eyes lighted with his humor, she found herself in very real danger of tripping.

  It had been so easy to succumb to his charm and to his sincerity when he’d told her of this ball. To the intensity when he looked at her.

  Selina thought he’d wanted to reach across the little parlor table and touch her. Now, as then, her heart flipped at the thought. But Edmund, Lord Granville, had been entirely proper, even sending his sister to extend the invitation to today’s ball.

  Honestly, she couldn’t help the smile that refused to fall from her lips. She felt as if she’d done nothing but smile since they met at that merchant’s counter, laughing over the combs. No, it didn’t matter to her if Edmund was an earl. She simply wanted to know him.

  “Only the daughter of a merchant… ”

  Her steps faltered at the overheard gossip from a pair of women at the edge of the dancefloor. Selina quickly corrected herself. She refused to embarrass herself or her father at such a gathering. Selina tilted her chin higher and ignored the nerves dancing in her stomach.

  When next she and Edmund passed, she smiled and didn’t let her slight discomfort show.

  “It seems,” he said softly, “we’ve raised a few eyebrows.”

  So he’d noticed, too. She waited for the next turn and whispered conspiratorially, “They want to know who the earl has shown charity to.”

  Selina did not miss the way Edmu
nd, Lord Granville, frowned. She felt his eyes follow her as she moved down the line, definitely not the way to halt any impending gossip. She glanced over at him, but he didn’t seem to care that he stared at her.

  “No,” he said as they circled each other again. “They wish to know who the beautiful and mysterious woman is.”

  Selina smiled slyly at him and moved away again. They finished the dance without another word, though Selina did hear a few more comments about her. Perhaps Edmund was correct and they were simply curious.

  After all, she was curious.

  Save Lady Octavia and Edmund, she knew no one here. Oh, honestly. She truly needed to remember to refer to him as Lord Granville. Calling him Edmund was not seemly, and she already had enough gossip swirling around her.

  And, according to Annabelle, when Selina said Edmund’s name, there was a distinct breathless quality.

  The quadrille ended, and Edmund offered his arm. He led her to the balcony, where a brisk breeze cooled her heated cheeks. Selina tried to convince herself her cheeks were flushed because of the dance. She didn’t quite believe it.

  “Lord Granville, if you continue to pay such attention to me, the entire room will gossip about your intentions,” Selina said as she glanced over her shoulder.

  Though she could see no one’s gaze directly on them, she still felt as if every single eye watched her.

  Selina turned back to him, surprised he’d shifted closer. His tall frame bent over hers, close and far more intimate than their brief acquaintance and recent introduction warranted. She stayed exactly where she stood.

  Unable and quite unwilling to move, her body felt alive as she never had before.

  In the darkness, she couldn’t see his eyes but felt his gaze on hers as he watched her. Studied her. He didn’t look at the ballroom behind them nor did he seem aware of the crush of people dancing and talking.

  She swallowed hard. Edmund seemed aware only of her.

  “Let them,” he said so softly, it felt like a caress over her still-flushed skin. “They’d not be wrong in their assumptions.”

  If she’d been thinking clearly, Selina would’ve been grateful for the darkness. The flush that had colored her cheeks spread hotly along her neck and shoulders, and the warmth that accompanied it made her heart flip in her chest.

  It was too much — the suddenness of it all, the intensity of his gaze, the hot, prickly feeling that rushed over her. Selina tore her gaze from his and looked over the balcony at the gardens.

  “While I’m flattered by these attentions,” she started and had to clear her throat. “I don’t believe you should pay them to me.”

  If possible, Edmund stepped even closer to her. She swallowed, unable to help the deep breath she took in, savoring his scent.

  “Why is that?” he asked, his voice a silken rumble over her skin.

  Selina took in another deep breath and hoped the night air cooled her racing blood. It did not. The cool air and the scents of late summer paled next to Edmund.

  “I’m not naïve to the differences between us,” she said calmly. “Nor am I a silly shopgirl that could believe a handsome lord had come to court her.”

  The next words stuck in her throat, but Selina plowed on. Annabelle might claim Selina’s voice went breathless when she spoke of Edmund, and her heart might have beat a little harder when she first saw him at her townhouse then again tonight. And the butterflies in her stomach might take flight whenever he looked at her.

  However, this was not a fairy tale, and she was no princess.

  “The invitation tonight was well received,” she told him. Her voice sounded unbelievably calm to her own ears. She wondered if it sounded so to his as well. “However, I believe it to be best if I don’t aspire so high.”

  “Nonsense.”

  He said it with such finality, she blinked up at him.

  Then, softer, he added, “You can aspire to any height you desire.”

  “My lord,” she said and kept her words measured, though her heart tripped. “We shared a very harrowing experience. And I think it possible the smoke has clouded your thinking. My father is wealthy, yes, but only recently so. I was no more than a glorified shopgirl myself but two years ago.”

  Selina paused to judge his reaction, but so far as she saw, he did not so much as blink. Her fingers ran down her skirt, smoothing already straight lines. Realizing what she did with the nervous gesture, Selina jerked her hands from her gown and folded them as demurely as possible at her waist.

  “I’m not the sort of prospect an earl seeks out,” she added evenly.

  “I think whatever prospect there is, is for the earl to decide,” he said, his voice still low and intimate.

  Her heart sped up again, even as Selina tried to tell it not to be so foolish.

  “Yes.” Edmund agreed.

  Selina really ought to refer to him as Lord Granville, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to do so. Not in her head, at least. To her, he was Edmund. Even if Lord Granville stood before her, so very close to her.

  “We did share a harrowing experience, as you put it.” Edmund did not move closer nor did he look away.

  Selina spared a thought for how their intimacy looked, but then he spoke again and she cared not for any others.

  “However,” he continued in that warm voice that washed over her, “in that short time, I’ve learned more of you than I would have about any of the other young ladies here. Even if I attended a hundred balls and danced a thousand dances with each of them. Please, allow me a time of courtship. Then decide if we are ill matched.”

  Selina’s stomach swooped, and she blinked in astonishment. Courtship? She wanted to say no. She should say no. The word formed on her tongue, even if everything in her wanted to say yes. Her fingers found her skirts again, and she nervously ran them over the fine material.

  “The gossips will say you are destitute,” she said, which wasn’t the emphatic no she’d planned. “That you are quite insolvent to reach so low for money.”

  His gaze narrowed, and she wondered if people already talked about such things.

  She licked her lips and continued. “They’ll say there are women of better breeding and with larger purses.”

  “I do not care about the gossips.” His words were hard and emphatic in the short distance between them. “I only care that you say yes.”

  Her mind raced and her gaze fell from his and to the gardens lighted only by small lamplights, then back to his. “You may care,” she whispered, “when everyone around you speaks that way.”

  His hand caught hers. His skin warm and his fingers firm around hers. He squeezed once then dropped her hand, but his touch lingered, and that warmth spread from her tingling fingers and straight to her heart.

  Edmund offered his arm and in that one moment, Selina realized this was her choice. If she declined his arm and walked away, that would put an end to everything. However, if she accepted the gesture, she accept his courtship as well.

  Her heart still pounded with his closeness, and her skin tingled from where he touched her. Selina knew only one answer.

  She accepted.

  Deep down, Selina didn’t believe the courtship would lead to anything save a few stolen moments together. And that saddened her, the understanding that it would be no more than a flirtation.

  Part of her wanted more with Edmund. So much more.

  They walked back into the ballroom and Selina felt every eye turn toward her. She swallowed and tried to keep her breathing even, her step measured. However, when she glanced up at Edmund, he didn’t seem to notice anyone, save her.

  That warmth spread, heating her blood and making her want.

  Chapter Five

  Selina agreed to meet Edmund — Lord Granville — at the museum, not out of obligation or because he was an earl who took an interest in her.

  Because she wanted to meet him. Wanted to accept his courtship since the night of Lady Octavia’s ball. All fear and trepidation shuttere
d for the moment; at least she attempted to close off her concerns. To push aside her practicality and simply accept his words and his interest.

  After the fire, she cursed the fact she had not discovered his full name. It made searching for him difficult to say the least. She wished to ensure he suffered no permanent ill effects from the fire, of course.

  During their short conversation in the bazaar, Selina had been intrigued by his mischievous manner. The way he spoke through the merchant, the sly looks he cast her, caught her attention from the first. Even though it was entirely inappropriate to meet a young man at a merchant’s counter, she hadn’t cared.

  When she walked down the steps to see him standing in her townhouse, she’d been surprised. Looking back she probably shouldn’t have been, but she was. He acted as interested in her wellbeing as she was in his after the fire.

  And that, too, surprised her.

  The invitation to his sister’s birthday ball was another unexpected turn between them. She did not regret attending and Selina found their conversation much easier than she first thought it would be.

  Not stilted, not awkward as if he regretted inviting her. Warm and with an ease Selina hoped for but never experienced. When she and Edmund spoke, it was with a genuine flow that made her forget her surroundings.

  Still, how long could a woman of her station hold his interest?

  That thought raced round and round her head even as Annabelle disappeared to another part of the house and she and Edmund continued on. A recent addition to the museum, she read from the leaflet the curator handed them upon arrival, the marble sculptures were exquisite.

  Fascinated by them, Selina leaned closer to study one of a centaur. She turned to Edmund to comment on it, but found him staring at her, not the beautiful sculpture they had, ostensibly, come to see.

  “My lord,” Selina said. “Are not the friezes more interesting than the hue of my gown?”

  It was a constant struggle to remember to use his title not his name and Selina smiled to herself over the use today.