Patricia Frances Rowell

by A Scandalous Situation

  “Drat!” He pulled her around onto the bed and tugged at her boots. When they fell to the floor, he sat and wrestled with his own. After several impatient minutes, he at last rolled onto the bed and drew her on top of him. His mouth tasted and teased her nipples. Iantha’s head began to swim as her body seemed to float upward on a cloud of sensation.

  Suddenly she was pulled back to earth by the pressure between her legs as he slid into her. She tensed, but then he was pulsing gently, his body stroking the center of her desire, his tongue claiming her nipples. The feelings began to escalate once more. Again her mind floated away from her body, aware only of a longing she could not define. Rob began to thrust more strongly, and as the world darkened, Iantha let it go.

  When the explosion occurred between her legs, her senses denied everything but the rigidity of her body, the sensations racing from head to feet, and her voice crying out.

  Rob’s voice in answer.

  And then she collapsed onto him. They both lay gasping for breath. Rob rolled her to one side and grinned at her.

  “And that, my lady, is the other result of being in danger.”

  A most entertaining afternoon. The fools had thought that he really intended to kill them.

  And he did.

  But not yet.

  No, not yet. He could take no chances, now that the killing might be traced to him, or even bring him under scrutiny. That would render him ineffective in his main goal. But what fun to see them scurrying about, waiting motionless in the cold while he slipped away to a warm house. A low laugh escaped him. How long had they stayed there shivering with fear and the chill?

  And before he killed her, he would have his pleasure with the high-headed slut. It had been too long since he had stalked a haughty lady and brought her down. Had heard her beg for mercy. Had made her call him “master.”

  Before he killed her.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Having Gailsgill announce the next afternoon that Lord Sebergham awaited her in the drawing room startled Iantha. Their taciturn neighbor had said he might call on them, but she did not expect him to do so. He did not seem the type for polite calls. He must be very bored indeed. Rising to his feet, he bowed as she came through the door.

  “Lady Duncan, I hope I find you well.” His sharp blue eyes reflected none of the concern he expressed.

  Iantha found she could muster no more for him, but smiled anyway, as best she could. “Quite well, I thank you. What brings you out today?”

  “Ennui, as always in the winter. And of course, the desire for your agreeable company.” Again the ghost of a smile on his lips gave little evidence of the veracity of the comment. Pure gallantry. Before she could respond, Rob entered the room.

  “Good afternoon, Sebergham. Gailsgill told me you were here.” He crossed to the other man and shook his hand, then turned to Iantha. “Have you rung for tea? Perhaps his lordship would prefer wine?”

  Sebergham nodded. “Thank you. I would enjoy some wine.”

  He smelled to Iantha as though he had already had plenty. No wonder in that. Many gentlemen spent the day as well as the night drinking, although Sebergham did not seem drunk. But she detected something strange in the scent. It was not exactly like wine, but perhaps the smell of tobacco mixed with it changed the odor. An uncomfortable feeling crept up her spine.

  Listening as the men exchanged small talk, she took a chair as far away from their visitor as she politely could while Rob poured sherry from the decanter.

  “I have had enough of the Cumberland winter. I find snow and cold very tiresome.” Lord Sebergham took a long swallow of the wine. “I fear my blood became thin while I was in the Carribean. I am thinking of going to London early this year—not waiting for the season.”

  Iantha silently wished him a good journey. She could not like the man. His odor gave her an odd feeling of distress.

  But Rob answered seriously. “I enjoy the winter myself. I missed it while I was in India. I believe Prince Vijaya finds it very uncomfortable, however.”

  “Ah, yes. Your perturbed Indian friend.” One dark eyebrow rose slightly, and a suggestion of a smirk appeared on their guest’s mouth. “I have not seen him except when I encountered you on the road. I trust he is well?”

  “Oh, aye. He just doesn’t get out much because of the cold.”

  At that moment Gailsgill appeared at the door to announce another visitor. “Mr. Broughton, my lady. Shall I bring tea?”

  “Not for me.” Sam sauntered into the drawing room and stopped before Iantha’s chair. “How are you, fair cousin?” He placed a polite kiss on her hand and turned back to the men. “Rob. Sebergham. Servant, gentlemen.”

  Iantha smiled. “Welcome, Sam.” She found it hard not to like Rob’s cousin, in spite of his constant harassment of her husband. She glanced at her butler. “I’ll have some tea, please, Gailsgill.”

  Sam seated himself near Rob and Sebergham and joined the conversation. Iantha sipped her tea and listened quietly. Did men really find hunting and racing to be so interesting? Perhaps they discussed other things when women were not present. She had to admit, however, that those subjects were more entertaining than the gossip and fashions women liked. Her mind was wandering to her writing when Sebergham stood and took his leave.

  Rob walked him to the door, and Sam, after helping himself to another glass of wine, moved to a chair closer to her own. He gave her a crooked grin. “Is my esteemed cousin making a good husband?”

  Before she could decide how to answer, her esteemed husband returned. “Of course I am. What did you expect?”

  Sam’s mouth quirked. “Why not? You excel at everything else.” He indicated their departed guest with a twist of his head. “What did Sebergham want?”

  Rob shrugged. “That’s more than I can say. Said he was bored.”

  “Can’t believe he ever does anything without more design than that.” Sam propped his feet on the stool and slouched in his chair. “Don’t like the man above half myself.”

  “Any particular reason?” Rob pulled a footstool over for himself. Iantha longed to join them in their comfort, but remained primly erect. Ladies simply did not slouch with company in the drawing room.

  “No, just always felt there was something havey-cavey about him. He is about our age, but I didn’t know him well as a boy.” Sam twirled his wineglass thoughtfully. “He grew up to be so wild that his father packed him off to South America about the time you went to India, but he has been back for several years. Came back when his father died. I see him in town from time to time.” He grimaced. “He’s the last of the Frasers, so naturally the barony came to the lucky rascal in spite of his misspent youth. It’s quite a fine estate.” He finished the sherry and set down his glass. “Though not as fine as the Eyrie.”

  “Have you come about the gunpowder mill?” Rob drained his glass and set it down.

  “Yes, I’m here as your agent today. That’s becoming an interesting investment. If your beautiful lady will excuse us…?” Both men stood.

  “Certainly.” Iantha set down her teacup. “I have work to do myself.”

  Rob bent to kiss her cheek. “Then I will see you later.”

  Iantha covered the damp spot on her face with one hand and watched his broad shoulders disappear through the door.

  And something stirred in her.

  She was so engrossed in her writing when Rob came into her bedchamber that she did not hear him until he came to a stop right behind her. Iantha jumped when he rested his hands on her shoulders and bent to drop a kiss into her hair. “Aah! I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He peered over her shoulder. “Are you answering letters for La Belle Assemblée?”

  Suddenly Iantha remembered what she had spread out on her desk. “Oh, no!” She hastily gathered the papers into a pile. “This is—”

  A large hand came down on the heap, stopping her frantic activity. “Another guilty secret, my lady?”


  Iantha searched his face. Yes, she saw a twinkle in the depths of his dark eyes. “Hardly, my lord.”

  Still leaning on the papers, he stroked her hair back from her face with the other hand, only his eyes belying his stern expression. “Then why this scramble to hide it?”

  Iantha leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her breasts, favoring him with a reproving look. “You know it is nothing scandalous, my lord.”

  “True.” He turned and sat on the edge of the desk. “So why won’t you let me see it?”

  “It—it is another of those things that men laugh at.”

  He shook his head admonishingly. “Did I laugh at your writing as Lady Wisdom?”

  She thought about that for a heartbeat. “Only once.”

  He held up one finger. “Only in relief. I am interested in your talents, Iantha. Won’t you tell me what you are writing?”

  A heavy sigh emerged from her. She knew he would not look without permission, even though he easily could. But… “Oh, very well. You are bound to find out sooner or later.” She indicated the papers with a gesture. “I am writing a novel, my lord.”

  “A novel?” His face lit with interest. “What kind of novel? Is it of an improving nature?”

  Iantha chuckled and shook her head. “No, not at all. I detest improving books.”

  Rob laughed aloud. “As do I. So what then?”

  “An adventure story. But I must confess that until I encountered you, I had not enough adventurous material. It is coming along very well now. I am including our adventure of yesterday.”

  Her husband grinned. “All of it?”

  “Well, no.” Hot blood flooded her face. “I cannot include the…the aftereffects. That would hardly be seemly.”

  Rob put his hands under her arms and lifted her to her feet. “But very adventurous.”

  He pulled her between his legs where he sat on the desk and wrapped his arms around her. For the next several moments further conversation became impossible.

  When it became necessary for them to breathe, he held her close as he spoke. “I have been talking to Sam about yesterday’s adventure. He is also very concerned about it.”

  “I, too.” Iantha leaned back to look at Rob’s face, and he released her and led her to the hearth chairs. “What is Sam’s opinion?”

  “He is as puzzled as I am. We discussed the possibility of a poacher, but I see no reason that a poacher would have for shooting you. I’m not severe with them, in any event. They no doubt need the occasional hare for the pot.” He scowled. “I’m damned if I can get the least hint as to whom to pursue.”

  Iantha gazed out the window for a long moment. “I…I think I am remembering something else about that night.”

  “Indeed?” Rob leaned forward in his chair. “What?”

  “A smell.”

  His brows drew together. “The scent associated with making love?”

  “No, although I do find that a little disturbing. It was present….”

  “I’m sorry.” He reached out and took her hand. “I’m afraid there is nothing I can do about that.”

  “No. But perhaps I will grow accustomed to it. It is not unpleasant of itself.” Iantha narrowed her eyes, concentrating, willing the other odor to return to her. “It came to me when Lord Sebergham was here. He had a scent rather like that which I remember. Some kind of wine or spirits and…tobacco, I think.”

  Rob nodded. “Absinthe. I smelled it on him, too, and I believe he smokes cigars.”

  “Absinthe? That’s a strong liqueur, isn’t it?”

  “Aye, extremely strong, and flavored with wormwood, which some say brings on madness, though I can’t say I’ve ever known anyone who went mad from drinking it. Still, I’ve never been willing to try it, not even in my worst time. Sebergham must be very bored indeed, to indulge in so risky a pastime.”

  Rob stroked her chin thoughtfully. “I wonder if I might discover where he was yesterday afternoon? I will make a point to ask around.”

  “Surely you don’t think he shot at us? He came here today showing no signs of guilt at all.” Iantha glanced at him.

  “I am not sure that he would show it if he were guilty. He is too self contained.”

  “He seems very world weary. And so cold.” Iantha shivered. “I cannot like him.”

  “He offers little to enjoy—unlike my scapegrace cousin, with whom I spent the balance of the afternoon.” Rob chuckled and shook his head. “Sam always makes me laugh, even when the subject is serious.”

  Iantha smiled. She had been thinking the same thing. “Yes, I like Sam very much. But I have wondered… Sometimes he speaks as though he were very envious of you.”

  “Sam?” Rob frowned. “He has little reason to be envious.”

  “I would not say that. You are much larger and much more handsome. He seems to covet your title and estate, also.”

  Rob looked startled, then smiled. “You think I am more handsome than Sam?”

  Iantha felt herself flush. “Well…yes. I would say so.”

  He leaned across the space between them and kissed her gently on the lips. “Thank you, my lady. I’m very happy that you find me so. But however slender Sam may look, he is able to give a good account of himself in a set-to, as I can attest. As for the envy you perceive, he is just teasing me. He always has.”

  “Sometimes people say in jest what they truly think but would otherwise never say.”

  “That’s true, but not Sam. He inherited a very pleasant estate from his father, and a nice house in London. And he has grown quite wealthy as my agent. We share our investments.”

  “A pleasant estate and a nice house hardly equal the history and grandeur of the Eyrie and the barony. And I would wager that you lent him money to invest.”

  Her husband gave her a puzzled glance. “Well, aye. But that was years ago. He has long since repaid me. Sam and I are almost like brothers. I missed him damnably while I was in India. Perhaps that is why Vijaya and I became such close friends—although Vijaya has no lack of siblings. Are you putting him into your novel?”

  “Oh, certainly. He is such a colorful individual.”

  “He is that. And after whom is your hero modeled?”

  Iantha ducked her head and looked at her hands. “That would be you, my lord.”

  Rob reached for her.

  “It better be.”

  After several dreary days of being cooped up inside the castle, Iantha felt ready to scream. Rob had flatly forbidden riding out until they discovered the identity of the gunman, and she could feel her newly restored temper threatening to slip its leash at his authoritative stance. That would not be fair at all. He was only trying to protect her. She would be very foolish to defy him.

  So, with paints in hand, she was heading to the battlements to find a new prospect to paint. Not wanting to go all the way back downstairs to the entry hall to enter the old castle, only to climb back up to the ramparts, she had taken the route through the floor on which her bedchamber was situated.

  Or she thought she had.

  After several minutes of wandering Iantha had not found the passage she sought. In fact, she seemed to have strayed into a completely unfamiliar wing. At last she saw a door she thought might be the object of her search.

  She opened it and peeked in. “Oh, dear! Please excuse me. I have lost myself again.”

  A startled Vijaya glanced up from the scroll he was perusing. “Lady Duncan! Please come in.”

  “Oh, no. I didn’t mean to intrude. I was looking for the way into the old section.”

  Vijaya got to his feet. “It is no intrusion. But I regret that I am not familiar with that particular door.”

  Iantha peered around the sitting room in astonishment. This seemed no chamber in an English castle, but rather an exotic scene transported from the Orient. She saw carved chairs and benches inlaid with ivory, and tall, massive chests with more carving and painted scenes. Bright silk panels decorated the walls, and
a low table beneath one of these held several figurines.

  “How remarkable! Did you bring all this from India?”

  He gestured for her to enter. “Yes, of course. I thought it would help me not to long for my homeland.”

  Iantha stepped into the room. “This is so beautiful. Not at all like staid English furnishings.” She turned back to her host. “Have you been very homesick?”

  Vijaya sighed. “Only occasionally.” He went to stand before the fire. “I find the constant cold very trying.”

  “May I look around?”

  “Certainly.” He swept a hand about the room. “I occupy this suite at the generosity of your husband, after all.”

  “Oh, you mustn’t think of it in that manner. We are honored by your presence. But I do want to look at these lovely things.” She stopped before a carved stone panel, squinting a bit at the figures on it. “What is—” She broke off and blood rushed to her face. The figures were handsome men and beautiful women, engaged in…in making love!

  All with big, happy smiles on their faces.

  Blood rushed into Iantha’s face, and Vijaya discreetly set a screen in front of the panel. “That once adorned a temple now crumbling with age.”

  “You mean…does… That was on a religious building?” She could not keep the incredulity out of her voice.

  He smiled slightly. “Yes, in India we do not view lovemaking as an embarrassment. We see it as an extension of the relations between the gods and goddesses. For us erotic art serves a noble purpose.”

  “I see.” Iantha mulled over that extremely alien concept. “I have heard that you have goddesses—which seems very strange to me. We have only God—and He is represented as male.”

  “Most authorities are male.”

  She frowned. That was certainly the truth. Authorities that disapproved of everything women… Well, most of them did, she amended. She must remember to exclude her husband from that indictment.