To Wed in Scandal (A Scandal in London Novel)

by Liana Lefey

  “I can assure y—”

  “No!” she yelped, jumping up to put her chair between them as he rose. “And you swore you wouldn’t touch me and that you’d leave me alone once you said your piece. Well, now you’ve spoken. Please go. Now. Before something terrible happens.”

  “And by terrible, I suppose you mean my making love to you?”

  Sabrina looked down to where her toes curled into the rug. Heat suffused her at his bold words. Her reactions to him were both humiliating and utterly debilitating. He had to leave. Immediately.

  Her head snapped up, alarm filling her as Montgomery slowly advanced toward her. She took a hasty step back.

  “I swore not to lay a hand on you, and I shan’t,” he said. “I never break my word, Sabrina.”

  Even so, the look in his eyes made her take another step back. Panic fluttered in her stomach as her backside bumped into something behind her. Fumbling behind her, she searched for the edge of the obstacle, not daring to take her eyes off him.

  “I promised I’d leave you alone for the remainder of the night when I was done,” he continued.

  “Yes, you did—now leave!”

  “Ah, but I’m not finished, Sabrina.”

  Moving with astonishing swiftness for so large a man, he trapped her in the corner between the wardrobe and the wall, bracing his hands on either side of her, blocking her escape.

  She prepared to scream. But instead of kissing her as she’d anticipated, he merely stared down at her. The heat of his nearness twisted her insides. What he was waiting for?

  She watched as he slowly clasped his hands behind his back.

  The scream died in her throat, lost along with the breath that rushed from her lungs, as he leaned in to trace the delicate line of her jaw with a feather brushing of his lips.

  “Kiss me, Sabrina,” he whispered, the ache in his voice tearing at her defenses.

  All at once, longing exploded across every inch of her flesh. Without thinking, she turned her face upward, shuddering with hunger as he took the offering.

  All rational thought scattered like ashes in the wind as she pressed into him, the chill of the room forgotten in the presence of his life and heat. The dark velvet of his tongue worked its magic, sapping the strength from her legs. She leaned back until she rested against the wall, twining her arms about his neck and pulling him with her.

  Relinquishing her lips, he bent and tugged at the ribbon holding her nightgown closed with his teeth.

  Shrugging the garment down from her shoulders, she sucked in a burning breath and moaned as his mouth closed over her pebbled nipple. A damp, aching heat blossomed between her thighs.

  With every swirl and flick of his tongue, she spun further out of control. When he moved to her other breast, she arched up and tightened her arms around his neck, pulling him down.

  Hands still clasped behind him, he slowly stood.

  Unwilling to be parted from the source of her pleasure, she clung to him as he rose and walked over to the bed. When her buttocks bumped the mattress, she froze. What am I doing? She put her feet on the floor.

  Before she could move any farther, however, he dipped again and drew upon a throbbing, rose-tipped crest.

  All inclination to put a stop to this madness was instantly driven from her mind. Instead, she wriggled until her nightgown fell the rest of the way to the floor.

  Montgomery proceeded to anoint this newly exposed flesh with featherlight kisses, first her neck and shoulders, then the hollow between her breasts. Again he tormented a nipple until she cried out softly. Then he sank to his knees before her and kissed her navel.

  She didn’t even have the time or presence of mind to be shocked when he ran his tongue along the crease between her thighs, nudging the plump mound at their juncture. Groaning aloud, she leaned back against the bed for support and sat, her liquefied knees falling apart to expose her most secret place.

  He left her no time for maidenly objections.

  A soft, keening cry escaped her when his hot mouth closed over her swollen flesh, as his tongue plunged between her slick folds to tease the sensitive jewel nestled within.

  Poised in an arc of ecstasy, she alternately gasped and held her breath as he took her to the chasm’s edge and danced back, as each time she moved a little closer to the precipice, until at last her body clenched in a paroxysm of undiluted bliss.

  Limp and dewed with sweat, she lay before him, still filled with want. She wanted more. She wanted him.

  All of him.

  He rose, again bracing his hands on either side of her prone body.

  An odd peace settled over her. In that moment she was ready to surrender. He would take her now. And she would let him. He would enter her willing body and bring her to the heights of pleasure, and that would be the end of it. She would be his wife within the month.

  But he did not. Instead, he hovered above her, watching her with his dark eyes until she squirmed with disquiet.

  “Always remember that I kept my word,” he murmured. “I did not lay a hand on you, not even a finger. Not once.”

  He hauled himself up just enough to brush her lips in a soft kiss.

  She tasted herself on his mouth, and another pang of cruel desire stabbed her to the core. Now it comes…

  He pushed off and stood. When he failed to begin removing his clothing, however, she stared at him, confused.

  “You may rest assured that I will trouble you no more this night,” he said softly. “But understand that this is far from over.”

  Turning, he departed. For one heart-stopping instant, he paused on the threshold, but then he moved forward and closed the door behind him.

  The chill in the room crept into her bones as she lay there listening to his fading footsteps, the sweat cooling uncomfortably on her skin. Blessed darkness welcomed her tears and muffled the sounds of her rage and despair.

  Henry flung himself through his chamber door, still shaking with the effort it had taken to leave her like that. He’d come so close to ruining everything just now, but had pulled back just in time. Or so he hoped.

  Damn you, Aylesford.

  It wasn’t fair that she compared him to her father, but there was nothing he could do about it except prove to her that he was a different sort of man. A man worthy of her heart and her trust.

  It would be no small task.

  Aylesford had tilled and planted London thoroughly, with little thought to discretion. And as so many wives did, Lady Aylesford had publicly endured his affaires with graceful nonchalance. She’d had no choice. Had she denounced him, London’s appetite for sensation would never have allowed her a moment’s peace.

  But Sabrina had seen the truth. Her mother had cared a great deal, and her heart had been broken time and again with each of her husband’s betrayals. His final one had been his worst; he’d died of the pox. He doubted Sabrina knew that little detail, but even so, she’d certainly seen enough of her mother’s pain to wish to avoid it herself.

  No wonder she was terrified of her own desires.

  He ran his hands through his hair, disheveling it. Why couldn’t he want someone without all these difficulties? It would be so easy to walk away now. To find some innocent girl fresh on the market. To forget the Pest.

  Such thoughts were a lie, he knew. He couldn’t forget her. And he couldn’t stand the thought of her entering a cold marriage out of needless fear.

  He needed to earn her trust, to show her that passion didn’t always lead to tragedy and betrayal. The problem was that every time he got near her, his blood simply ignited. That, he could not change any more than he could change when the sun rose and set.

  He cast himself on the bed, groaning. Even now, he was filled with lust. But if he was to gain her confidence, he’d have to exercise the utmost self-control.

  It would be a challenge—God knew how she inflamed him—but if he wanted her hand, he would have to meet that challenge.

  IF ANYONE AT the house party noticed tha
t she appeared a bit wan and tired this morning, they didn’t comment on it. She ate her breakfast in silence until interrupted by a familiar voice.

  “Sabrina?”

  Looking up, she met Chadwick’s soft, brown eyes. “My lord?” She lowered her voice. “I thought you didn’t—”

  “I came to ask if you’d reconsidered Montgomery’s offer.”

  Her mouth went dry. “No, I have not,” she answered sharply. Just the mention of his name was enough to upset the calm she’d worked so hard to restore.

  Nearby, heads turned and brows began to rise. She didn’t care.

  Chadwick leaned closer, visibly trembling. “I know you dislike him. I’ve witnessed firsthand how he vexes you. If you do not wish to marry him, then I beg you to reconsider my offer.”

  Horror filled her at the thought. “But your father—”

  “My father can keep his bloody money,” he said, surprising her. “I’ll earn a living on my own. A gentleman isn’t supposed to soil his hands with trade—but I’m no gentleman, not really.” He hung his head for a moment. “My father, though he’d die before admitting it openly now, was once a merchant. He won a lady’s hand. Why cannot history happily repeat itself?”

  So complete was her shock that her tongue cleaved to the roof of her mouth.

  “As for Montgomery, if he objects, I shall happily challenge him. I know I probably don’t look it, but I’m quite skilled with a blade,” he added. “I’ve bested all of my instructors and feel quite confident in my abilities. Say you’ll have me and I’ll rid you of him forever. And I swear I shall never provoke you as he does. A man should have more respect for the woman he wishes to become his wife.”

  For a moment, Sabrina feared she might actually faint.

  Smiling tenderly, he placed a hand atop hers. “I quite forgive you for your momentary lapse in the”—he looked around and then again lowered his voice—“in the library. Montgomery is an experienced seducer, and you in your innocence could not help but be overwhelmed.” His eyes grew hard with disapproval. “I would never embarrass you so. And”—his voice sank even lower—“I vow only to touch you when you wish it.”

  Her thoughts crystallized. “Come with me,” she said, grabbing his hand.

  “What? Now?”

  She rose. “Now.”

  He remained seated, staring up at her in bewilderment. “Are you certain you’re feeling quite well?”

  She looked down at him. No. She was most certainly not well. But if she did not do this now, right now, she might lose her one chance to discover whether or not her fate was truly sealed. She had to know. “If you do not come with me this instant, then you may marry Miss Bidewell, and I shall wish you joy on your wedding day.” Pulling her hand free, she walked away.

  He caught up with her just as she strode through the french doors. “Have I said something to anger you?”

  “Not at all, my lord.”

  “Has Montgomery said something, then? Shall I challenge him? Really, I am not afraid, you know.”

  The quiver in his voice betrayed the truth, but she admired his bravery, nonetheless. Into the gardens she led him until, entering the deep shade of a rose arbor, she spun on her heel. “The only challenge you need face is the one standing before you now. Kiss me.”

  His eyes widened and he stumbled back, lumbering into one of the arbor’s posts.

  She advanced and pressed him against it, ignoring his hard flinch at the contact. He wriggled and squirmed, his hands flailing at his sides, as though he was unsure where to put them. When he clutched at the latticework behind him for support, his left thumb caught on the thorns of the climbing roses adorning it. Wincing, he snatched it away.

  A fine line of scarlet beads formed on his flesh as they both stared at it.

  Sabrina took his wrist and slowly pulled his hand up to her mouth, placing his thumb between her lips. She drew gently upon it, and his soft moan—half protest, half desire—told her she was successful in stirring him.

  All she needed was to break his restraint and unleash his passion, as well as her own. If she could just feel something akin to what she’d felt last night, even the tiniest twinge of desire, she would know it was possible to want someone else, and Montgomery’s hold on her would be broken.

  Releasing his thumb, she stretched up to meet his lips. This time, though he still jerked violently, he did not attempt to evade her. But though she employed every trick she’d learned from listening to her sisters—and, ironically, her limited experience with her enemy—she remained utterly unmoved. Infuriated by her own lack of response, she rubbed her breasts against his chest, hoping…

  Chadwick’s muffled yelp of protest was like a bucket of cold water dashed in her face.

  She broke away.

  Breathless, he lay back against the sharp thorns, uncaring that his jacket was being shredded. The look in his eyes was much like that of a cornered rabbit facing a hungry fox.

  Turning away, she sat on a little stone bench beneath the arbor’s shade, defeated.

  The rustling of leaves followed by several soft curses told her that her victim had at last managed to extricate himself from his botanical prison. “I suppose you must think me a shameless wanton,” she said woodenly.

  “No, no, I—I don’t.”

  She looked up at him in disbelief. “Tell me, then, what are you thinking?”

  “I suppose…” His throat bobbed as he swallowed compulsively. “I suppose I’m wondering why you kissed me,” he said lamely.

  Hot tears slid down her equally heated cheeks.

  He mistook her reaction, naturally. “I’m sorry if I bungled it. It’s just that, until now, no woman has ever shown the slightest interest in kissing me. If I’m not everything I should be, I’ll—I’ll learn,” he stammered, flushing an impossible shade of red. “I’m no fool, Sabrina. I know you’ve kissed Montgomery. And I know he’s kissed more women than I—many more, I’m certain. You’re my first, actually. I may be inexperienced, but I will make every attempt to please—”

  “It’s not that.” Never had she felt so ashamed.

  He knelt beside her. “Then, what is it?”

  An inexplicable sadness filled her. It was so stupid, really. “If you really wanted me, you’d have tried to kiss me back.”

  He blinked.

  “You wouldn’t have tried to back away. You’d have taken me in your arms and—”

  “You wanted me to ravish you?”

  The look on his face was one of such comic astonishment that Sabrina, unable to help herself, giggled through her tears. “I only wanted to know if you felt any passion for me,” she said at last.

  His eyes grew round with comprehension. “My darling, of course I do! How could I not? You’re so lovely, so incomparable—”

  “Then show me,” she demanded, standing. Perhaps if he were more forceful this time, she might feel something.

  Chadwick stood, but he made no move toward her.

  “You see?” she laughed, swiping at her eyes. “You’ve been thinking you’re in love with me. But if you were, you’d do more than just stand there.”

  His shoulders sagged. “Sabrina, I’m not a seducer of women. I’m not capable of—”

  “Liar,” she interrupted, her eyes drifting down to rest upon the telltale bulge in his breeches.

  He flushed again, and this time, the purple reached his ears. “Well, I—I…of course I’m capable, but it isn’t pr—”

  “I don’t care about being proper anymore. Touch me, Tristan,” she commanded, deliberately using his Christian name. Closing her eyes, she tilted her face up in offering.

  Something inside him must have broken free, because there was plenty of ardor in this kiss. Yet she remained unaffected as his lips moved over hers in a patent mimicry of what she herself had done to him only moments ago.

  Nothing. Not one heartbeat out of time, not one frisson of desire.

  Chadwick withdrew. “It’s no use, is it?”

 
She remained silent, numbed by the truth.

  Releasing her, he ran a shaky hand through his hopelessly mussed hair. “Perhaps if I’d been bolder in the beginning and won your heart…” His lips compressed with resignation. “You should accept Montgomery’s offer. It would be for the best.”

  “But you said—”

  “I would have loved you, Sabrina. I would have dedicated my whole life to making you happy. But it’s too late for that now.” His brown eyes were infinitely sad and wise.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, filled with regret for having hurt him.

  “Don’t apologize, please, or you’ll break my heart all over again,” he said, taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders. “I’ve learned a valuable lesson. If ever I find my heart’s desire again, I won’t hesitate to reach out for it and make it mine.”

  Standing on tiptoe, she placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. He didn’t flinch this time. “How I wish things had been different,” she said, looking up at him through a shimmer of fresh tears.

  From behind the screen where he’d been reading the papers and drinking what was now his frigid morning tea, Henry fumed.

  Miss Woodbine had returned in haste from her morning constitutional to relay the news: she’d just now seen Lord Chadwick and Lady Sabrina kissing beneath the arbor—with great enthusiasm. Everyone was scandalized. Young Chadwick, it seemed, had rallied and retaken the lead for the lady’s hand.

  Fists clenched into white-knuckled balls, Henry listened as friendly bets were placed amid the jesting.

  “There’ll be a duel before the Season’s out,” one man chuckled. “I’ll put myself down at White’s tomorrow. Fifteen pounds on Montgomery.”

  “One can’t really blame her indecision, poor girl,” remarked a sultry, French-accented female voice. “Choosing between two confections can be difficult, after all. Which will she take, I wonder? The sweet or the spice? I prefer spice, myself—far more interesting to the palate.”

  “Perhaps. But not everyone has your appetite for it, my dear,” added a voice that Henry recognized as Fairford’s. “I wouldn’t put my money on either of them, if you want my opinion. Neither seems to be to her taste, or she’d have settled by now.”