Improper Match: Scandalous Encounters

by Reed, Kristabel

  She took a deep breath, looked from the floor up to Edmund, and stepped back. Her teeth sank into her lower lip, and she carefully undid her wrap. He watched the thoughts flash over her face with uncertainty, concern, and hesitation.

  “You will drive me mad if you don’t answer,” he admitted, his voice cracking.

  Annabelle’s face closed off and she took another step back. At first Edmund thought it was in fear of him, and he struggled to find the words to reassure her. But then, as he watched her look around, at the cleanliness and the life that still inhabited the supposedly abandoned townhouse, he realized it was surprise.

  She hadn’t expected anyone to be here.

  “I’m uncertain how to begin,” she admitted.

  Fear clenched cold and hard around his heart. “Tell me what’s happened,” he said and tried to modulate his voice so it didn’t sound as harshly commanding.

  Annabelle took a deep breath. “When we left,” she said slowly, “when Selina left, she did so to protect you. To keep you away from the scandal and taint that touched her life.”

  “I know this,” Edmund insisted, impatient. “I understand her reasons. I don’t agree with them, but I understand her reasons. All I want is her,” he admitted, the words torn from him.

  Annabelle took a half step closer. “She feels she’s failed you in every possible way. And is punishing herself. I don’t—” She broke off and took a deep breath. “I don’t agree with her decision. That’s why I’m here.”

  She paused again and looked at him, her shoulders back and looking stronger and straighter than when she first entered. “I believe she needs you.”

  “I need her,” he murmured, not loud enough for Annabelle to hear.

  He clenched his hands at his sides and forced himself to remain calm, to once again tighten the control on his emotions, on his impatience. He couldn’t shake the answers out of Annabelle; he cared for and respected her too much for that.

  Instead he swallowed his demands and nodded.

  Annabelle folded her hands in front of her and looked him straight in the eye. “Once we left London, it was only after… only after that, Selina found she was with child.”

  His world shifted. Edmund felt it tilt dangerously beneath his feet and wanted to reach out, hold onto something. But his mind blanked and he could do nothing but stare at Annabelle.

  His breath released in a long sigh. A child. His child.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he insisted, visions of Selina pregnant with his child a temptation he wanted to reach out and hold. “I don’t care how many months along she is, we’ll marry,” he continued. “If she fears additional scandal, we’ll stay away until she’s given birth. All of London knows we were betrothed.”

  A child. Their child. Edmund smiled the first time in months; he’d smiled, and for a moment his world lightened. Annabelle’s heartbroken look crashed through him, and once more his world tilted and he stumbled.

  “She lost the child,” Annabelle whispered, the words a sharp crack of heartbreak in the silence.

  A sense of hollow loss gutted him, and tears pricked at the back of his eyes.

  “Is she all right?” he asked, the words choked and desperate.

  “She believes it is her fault,” Annabelle said. “That this is one more way she’s failed you.”

  Edmund wanted to reassure her that it wasn’t Selina’s fault, that he didn’t blame her, never had, and could never blame her. But the words caught in his throat, behind the thickness of unshed tears and raw loss.

  “I hope you do not believe that!” Annabelle rushed on.

  Edmund managed to shake his head. “No. I do not,” he said, the words shards of pain. “The fault lies with Philip Denley and Eleanor Ashworth.”

  Annabelle nodded. “Yes. It does.”

  Shaking his head to clear it, or at least push back the rush of… everything, he took a step closer. “I need to see her.”

  “Yes,” Annabelle agreed. “You do.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Selina stared out of her window at the soft Scottish morning, her fingers tracing random lines on the window panes. The house lay quiet and, from her position on the window seat in the back parlor, Selina could just make out the sounds from the street.

  Dumfries was a lovely town; the people were friendly even to an obvious outsider such as herself and Annabelle, yet they didn’t try to drag her into society.

  Selina was grateful for that. Annabelle had made several close acquaintances, but Selina preferred the quiet of her cottage. The anonymity of it. Now, she heard the rumblings of several carriages and the yap of Mrs. Knox’s terrier as the old woman walked by her cottage on her normal morning constitutional into the village.

  Soothing sounds of life outside her cottage. They were sounds Selina had no desire to be a part of, but she felt comforted by them despite the distance.

  She’d never considered herself the sort to hide away from society, but the events of the previous year had taken their toll. Now she preferred walking by the creek that ran along the rear of the property to a walk into the village.

  It’d been nearly a week since Annabelle traveled to London to find Mr. Bromley and pay the investigator what he was owed. The papers had all declared Arthur Lyndell innocent and Eleanor Ashworth and her lover Philip Denley guilty of Mr. Ashworth’s murder.

  Reading the broadsheets, Selina felt vindicated, the spark of fire so long extinguished once again flaring to life inside her. No longer would the gossipmongers talk of Arthur Lyndell as a murderer. It would not bring her beloved father back, but his reputation, at least, had been restored.

  Despite Mr. Bromley’s lack of skill in keeping them informed of his progress, the investigator had done his duty.

  Impressively so.

  It was only right he receive the money owed him, and Annabelle had agreed to travel to London to pay him. She’d tried to convince Selina to join her. But during the long Scottish winter, Selina had made peace with her decision to leave London — and Edmund. At least that was what she told Annabelle.

  Dumfries was her home now.

  In the days Annabelle had left, Selina did feel lonely. One day Annabelle would leave her, marry, and find her own household. One day Selina would no longer have a companion, someone she trusted.

  And one day, she’d receive word Edmund married.

  The very thought made her stomach clench and her heart ache, but Selina ignored them. She’d feel truly alone then.

  The normal chatter outside her cottage rose significantly. Selina tilted her head to listen, not tearing her gaze from the view outside. A pair of birds fluttered along the trees, their branches swaying with a gentle breeze.

  Mrs. Campbell’s clear voice greeted her. Selina’s lips curved upward just slightly. For weeks now, Mrs. Campbell had tried to convince her to join in the festivities for the spring festival.

  A relentless one, Mrs. Campbell. She didn’t pry or ask any questions, but on their first meeting, those shrewd eyes seemed to recognize the sadness Selina carried. As such, Mrs. Campbell had made it one of her many purposes to expel Selina’s sadness.

  As much as Selina appreciated that, she preferred the quiet of her cottage and the sole companionship of Annabelle.

  The knock on the front door did not surprise her. As much as Selina wanted to ignore it, Gillian Campbell was relentless. Uncurling herself from the window seat, Selina walked down the short hallway to the foyer.

  She’d long grown used to doing for herself, and now answering her own door was second nature.

  Lifting her lips in a semblance of a smile for Mrs. Campbell, Selina shook out her skirts from any wrinkles her prolonged sitting may have caused. She opened the door — and her greeting died on her lips.

  Gillian Campbell did not stand on her front stoop.

  Edmund did.

  Selina blinked. She forgot how to breathe, her heart stumbled in her chest, and her fingers tightened on the door handle, but all she could
do was blink up at him.

  In the early days of their stay in Thistle Briar Cottage, Selina had dreamt of Edmund standing at her front door. Of him finding her. The happy ending she hadn’t had, with him finding her despite the lengths she’d gone so he wouldn’t be able to.

  Those were dreams she hadn’t allowed herself during the day, but her mind had fantasies each night for weeks.

  Selina almost didn’t believe he stood there now — perhaps she finally had gone mad.

  Edmund stepped inside the foyer. Selina didn’t remember moving, but suddenly she stood several feet from him, the echoing slam of the door the only sound she heard.

  “I was lost,” he whispered.

  His head bent to hers, his breath a warm caress along her ear, the sensitive skin of her neck. Selina shivered but had utterly forgotten how to move. Or speak.

  Then his arms were around her, and her head was buried against his chest; the familiar feel of Edmund holding her warmed that ball of ice Selina had carried with her since her father’s death.

  She sighed against him, her fingers bunching the expensive fabric of his waistcoat.

  “This was not for the best,” Edmund said, his voice a rumble of sound beneath her ear. His arms tightened even more around her, and Selina couldn’t imagine ever moving.

  “Being apart from you could never be for the best,” he added.

  His fingers tangled in her hair, a gentle tug, and she looked up at him. His dark eyes blazed with love and passion and open relief. She swallowed and forced herself to step back, out of his embrace, even though she instantly felt bereft.

  “Edmund, I wasn’t of your station before Father’s arrest,” she said, the words thick in her throat. “And after, it was impossible. I couldn’t see you dragged down like you were, simply because you chose the wrong woman.”

  Edmund closed the small distance between them and pressed his forehead to hers. “You were never the wrong choice,” he insisted, his voice harsh and even. “Never.”

  He took a deep breath, his hands cupping her cheeks, and she couldn’t help but lean into the warmth and comfort of him.

  “I’ve been angry with you — angry you walked away and did not give me the choice to stay with you. These last months have nearly driven me mad.”

  His thumbs brushed at the tears she couldn’t stop. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her lungs struggled for enough air.

  “I love you, Selina,” he promised. “Nothing will ever change that.”

  Her breath caught, and she swallowed hard. His gaze bore into hers, rooted her to the spot.

  “Has it changed for you?” he asked.

  Selina shook her head. She shook her head but stepped back, wiping at her cheeks. She needed space, needed to look at him and try to gather herself. She hadn’t expected to ever see him again, and she didn’t know how to say what she desperately needed him to hear.

  “Something has changed between us,” she said and swallowed past the lump of happiness, tears, and surprise clogging her throat.

  Edmund’s smile broke her heart, his lips a brush of tenderness along her temple. “I know about the child,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

  Her breath caught on another sob, but Selina jerked back, wide-eyed with shock. Annabelle. But she couldn’t be angry with her cousin.

  “I made all the wrong decisions,” Selina whispered.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Edmund said. “It doesn’t matter.”

  His mouth was soft on hers, a gentle exploration she eagerly opened to. Mayhap it didn’t matter, not when he obviously hadn’t given up on her. On finding her.

  His fingers threaded through her hair, and Edmund deepened the kiss. Selina tentatively felt the skin along his cravat and sighed into the kiss. She’d missed the feel of his skin beneath her touch.

  “Can you forgive me?” Selina asked, breaking away just enough to speak.

  “There’s nothing to forgive,” Edmund responded.

  She raised an eyebrow at that, but he hadn’t finished.

  “I want you home with me,” he said. “Everything feels empty without you.”

  She nodded, a short movement of her head. “It does for me, too, Edmund.” She swallowed. “But while Father has been exonerated and those terrible people—” She broke off, sniffed back angry tears and tears of regret. “… Have received the justice they deserve, it all still lingers.”

  Her fingers brushed over his cheek, and she shook her head. “It’ll always be around us. I did not and I still do not want this to touch you,” she whispered. “Not anymore.”

  Edmund’s back stiffened. She saw the anger in his gaze, the hard set to his mouth. But he didn’t lash out, didn’t fire back with accusations or recriminations. Instead he loosened his hands at his side and purposefully looked around the cottage.

  He took his time and examined the foyer, the front parlor, and the small area as if memorizing it. Selina watched him, confused. Finally he looked back at her and nodded once.

  “This will have to do,” he pronounced.

  Surprised, she tilted her head to the side, her fingers brushing down her skirts, along the faintly worn fabric.

  “I shall stay here with you,” he said, as if it were obvious. “This is a perfectly fine cottage, away from everything.” He smiled and lifted her hand from where her fingers rubbed along her skirts. His lips brushed over her knuckles “We can have a good life here, away from everything you fear.”

  Selina’s back stiffened at the challenge. “Edmund, you cannot stay here,” she insisted.

  “But I can,” he said, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “Nothing is strong enough to pull me away from you. I want this life in this small Scottish cottage more than I want anything else.” He paused, but she’d already struggled to breathe at his declaration. “Because,” he added softly but no less forcibly, “you are here.”

  All the breath left her in a rush.

  “Our son can go home to England to claim the title and the seat of the Earl of Granville,” he added in a perfectly reasonable tone. “We’ll live the simple life here in Dumfries.”

  “Edmund,” she said on a half laugh, half sob, “you are such a fool. I’ve given you every opportunity to walk away from me. To stay away.”

  “And I’ll never take one of them.” He paused and added in a harsher voice, “We are not so fragile we cannot endure this storm, Selina. We never were. I know you thought leaving me was for the best.” He shook his head but didn’t release her hand. Didn’t stop or step back. “As I said, it is not.”

  The conviction in his tone rang through her, collapsing the walls she’d built around her heart.

  “You are my choice,” he continued in her stunned silence. “And I am yours. And we should not let anyone break that bond. There’s nothing left to fear, Selina.” One hand cupped her cheek, and he leaned closer. “Come home. Marry me. And take your place, with your head held high, as my countess.”

  He dropped his hand from her cheek and released her fingers. Selina, stunned at his admission, at his passionate words, at the honesty that reverberated with every sentence, only managed to stare mutely up at him.

  “I truly am lost without you,” he repeated.

  “I love you, Edmund,” Selina whispered.

  All her arguments vanished at his words. Her concern for him, for his reputation, for his name — gone with the passion in his words, in the way he looked at her. The fact he’d found her.

  “I love you so much.” She sighed and stepped into his embrace.

  Selina didn’t remember leading Edmund upstairs to her bedroom. His mouth was on hers, and he was really there. It overwhelmed Selina, the sheer presence of him, the fact he’d found her.

  More than any of that, however, it was that he wanted to find her.

  She scraped her nails through his hair, along the nape of his neck. Drew him closer. They hadn’t had long together; the intimacy of their relationship had been so new when she left. But her body rememb
ered.

  Selina shivered and arched closer into his touch. She closed the bedroom door behind her, even though she knew neither of her servants would dare disturb her. Her fingers slipped beneath Edmund’s coat and quickly brought it down his arms, letting it drop to the floor.

  She struggled with the buttons on his waistcoat before it, too, joined the finely embroidered coat. Her fingers slid along the exposed skin of his neck, felt the heat of him, the pounding of his heart.

  Edmund broke free of her kiss only long enough to spin her around and start on the buttons that held her gown together. He nipped at the back of her neck, at each exposed piece of skin as he unbuttoned her gown.

  Finally, when it pooled at her feet and Selina stepped out of it, she turned to face him. Her heart slammed in her chest, her body felt warm and flushed, and she wanted him.

  But when she faced him, Selina stopped.

  “You’re really here,” she whispered.

  Edmund’s eyes darkened further. In a heartbeat the mood changed from kissing and sex to soft and intimate and delicate. Not fragile, not breakable. Just supple and smooth, quiet and gentle. One hand cradled the back of her head, his long fingers gentle on her scalp, his thumb a tender caress just behind her ear.

  “I would’ve always been here for you,” he said.

  Selina licked her lips and nodded. One conversation in the foyer of her Scottish cottage did not erase what happened between them.

  But it was a promise. A promise that their relationship could work. Because, finally, they were both willing to do so.

  “No more running,” she promised. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Good,” he murmured and lifted her onto the bed.

  Selina melted, her heart warm and full to bursting with words and feelings and forever. She pressed her lips to his, kissing him as if they had all the time in the world. She drew him down to her and sighed at the feel of his hard body pressed so closely to hers.

  Her legs opened, and despite the chemise between them, she cradled him to her body.