A Proper Scandal

by Paula, Rebecca

  “You can stop with that ridiculous pet name.” She brushed down her skirts, sitting straight. Slowly, she began to peel off one glove, a finger at a time. There was a brightness to her cheeks. As he seemed to be nothing of a threat to her, Alex could only assume it was from running through the streets.

  It was remarkable. He had never met a person who could wear and dispose of so many masks within such a short amount of time. But whoever this girl was, she was quite skilled at the art of the masquerade. She’d make the perfect con woman, a trickster, or an assistant to one of those doctors hawking fake medical cures in the streets.

  She threw back her shoulders and peeled off her left glove, her fine ladylike hand reaching over to undo the other. It was then that he noticed the slight tremble in her long fingers.

  “Are you going to tell me what you’re doing in this part of London?”

  “Certainly not.”

  “I feel I should know something about the woman parading about as my wife.”

  The girl lofted her nose and diverted her eyes to the ceiling. If it wasn’t for her quick breathing, he would have been fooled. But she was frightened.

  “Darling,” he insisted.

  She pursed her lips and furrowed her brows, slowly dropping her gaze to meet his. “I told you to stop calling me that. Alex.”

  §

  Minnie dashed for the door, but Alex was quicker. He held it shut as she reached for the worn brass doorknob.

  “Then tell me your name,” he whispered into her ear.

  “Good heavens, you’re persistent!” Minnie whirled around and stormed to the window, crossing her arms. “Anne,” she lied. “My name is Anne Gibbons. Can the interrogation be over now?”

  He strode closer. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Anne Gibbons.” Alex held out his hand.

  Hers remained griping at the silk fabric around her middle. For once she was thankful for the corset she wore, holding her together when she felt herself melting under his stare. “It’s unladylike to shake hands with someone who is not intimately acquainted with my family.”

  Alex dropped his hand, staring back in cool assessment. “Never said I was important.”

  “Your signet ring suggests otherwise.”

  He shoved his hands in his worn trouser pockets and rocked back onto his heels.

  She took quick stock of his blue eyes, a strange color that she had never seen outside of her time in Persia. They slanted downward slightly and the left lid hung lower over his eye than his right. His nose looked as if it had been recently broken, crooked and long. His mouth was narrow, but his lips wide and full. When they parted in a smile, his face magically lit up. He wouldn’t be considered classically handsome, but the imperfections certainly made up a convincing whole.

  They stared at each other in cool assessment.

  “Observant,” he said finally.

  She noted the slight drop in his shoulders as hers stiffened once again. She had surprised him. “Since you didn’t give me a full name, what brings you to this part of town, Alex?”

  “I don’t owe you an answer.”

  Minnie pursed her lips, pretending to take his answer in stride, when really she wanted to run over and stomp on his foot. Twice. She was far from the sheltered British rose who needed to be locked away until it was time for the perfect match. Her uncle had tried, after all, and now she was in a whorehouse, rooming with a pretend husband.

  “Then I don’t owe you one either.”

  “You’re a clever girl.”

  “Why, thank you.” She smiled, dipping into a curtsey. As she rose, her foot hooked around the chair leg. She toppled rather ungracefully onto the tabletop.

  “I see you didn’t excel at finishing school.”

  It was difficult to breathe just then, his words wrapping around her chest, drawing her back to her earlier interview with Mrs. Robards. She’d been expelled from one school, ran from another, and while it could be considered a failure, she wasn’t going to have to suffer the nasty gossip any longer, nor the teasing. She was the one on the outside, and yet Minnie could hear his smile before she righted herself. She straightened and glowered at him. It was a smug smile, not the one that made her feel rather woozy and lightheaded. She would be happy to wipe this smile off his face with a sound slap.

  Alex didn’t afford her the opportunity.

  “No matter,” he said, pushing off the door. “We’re leaving in the morning. I’m taking you back to wherever you came from.”

  “First, I’m not leaving.” Minnie pushed off from the table. “Second, what makes you think I’ll tell you where I came from?” This man was exhausting.

  “How old are you, Anne?”

  “I’m twenty.”

  “If you’re twenty, I’m a horse’s arse.”

  “Nineteen,” she said, rolling her eyes and grabbing her chatelaine from the bed. She could pass as a young nineteen. “And you’re still a horse’s ass.”

  “You’ve a mouth on you too.” He stepped forward, forcing her retreat until he boxed her against the wall once more. Alex leaned closer, threatening a kiss, but she could think of worse things to happen. Besides, the man clearly had morals—wanting to return her as if she were a misplaced porcelain doll, rushing to rescue the damsel in distress back in the alley. No, it didn’t matter that he hedged closer with a determined set to his bushy brow. Besides, Minnie had a gun.

  She slipped the small handgun between their bodies and pressed it into the underside of his chin. His eyes grew wide as an amused smile spread across his lips. But she recognized that as a disguise too. He was furious.

  “Does this change things?” she asked, fluttering her eyelashes for effect.

  “I’m convinced you were tossed out now.”

  “How old are you?” Up close, she noted the dark circles under his eyes and a sickly pallor to his skin. She paused for a moment, thinking that she should ask if he was well, but that would be silly. This man wanted to return her and shatter the last of her hopes of becoming a ballerina. “Don’t confuse me for some soft-spoken debutante.”

  “Why didn’t you use that earlier in the alley?”

  “Seriously,” Minnie tsked, ducking out from beneath his arms. She narrowed her eyes, running her fingers over the short barrel of the pistol. “I’d say you’re around twenty.”

  He slumped against the door. “It’s not loaded, is it?”

  A strange tattoo, one of lines and dashes, was etched in black ink between his thumb and forefinger, as if it were a brand of some sort. It spoke of a different background than that of the gold signet ring. Interesting indeed.

  “Of course it’s not loaded.” Minnie stuffed the gun away, satisfied. She didn’t need another male to come along and stow her away. She was young, but she wasn’t stupid. She wanted to live life.

  “It’s been a long day,” she conceded, looking out onto the darkening streets below. “Where I come from is not important. I’m seventeen, if you must know.” She paused and met his stare. “Turning eighteen soon. I’m in London to become a ballerina. I was on my way to a more respectable boarding house before you found us these lovely accommodations.”

  Alex clapped his hands slowly, his smile growing larger and larger until he barked another ugly laugh. “You nearly had us killed today.”

  “That doesn’t make a difference now. Needs must and all that lovely nonsense.”

  “Needs must? Ha!”

  Minnie remained silent. She suspected she would only anger him more if she spoke. It was true that she didn’t need anyone to help her, but it couldn’t hurt to have someone to go on an adventure with either.

  Then she looked at her prospective companion, a man sporting a bruised face, bouncing a rubber ball back and forth between the wall and where he stood, then sighed.

  §

  Rumbling carts and drunken shouts woke Minnie the next morning as the light of day started to color London’s skyline. Normally, it would be an ungodly hour to begin the day, but thi
s was no ordinary day. Today, Lady Minnie Ravensdale, sister of the Earl of Stamford, was a free woman. By day’s end, she expected to have a dancing roll at one of the Leicester Square theaters and all would be as it should.

  A muffled moan sounded from the floor beside the bed, causing a shiver to rattle over her body. “Alex?” she hedged, peering over the bed’s edge. His body was folded into itself, his hands clutched over his head. “Is something the matter?”

  “Everything’s grand,” he answered gruffly.

  At least she didn’t have to worry about him being meddlesome. It appeared as if she could declare herself a princess and he still wouldn’t budge to return her to her ivory tower today.

  “It sounds as if something is the matter.” Her hands itched as she gripped the scratchy bed linens tighter and slid over the side of the bed. “Alex?”

  “For the love of all that’s holy. Shut. Your. Mouth,” he snarled, clutching his head tighter until his knuckles whitened.

  “You don’t need to be rude. I was only—” Another moan cut her off. “—asking,” she finished lamely. “Don’t bark at me.” She slipped to the floor to sit beside him. “I’m only trying to help.”

  “Be...quiet,” he hissed.

  “How can I help if you keep telling me to be quiet? Really, Alex. Stop being impossible.”

  Her hands hovered above his face. From the sound of it, it was entirely plausible that he was transforming into a rabid animal. “Tell me what is wrong,” she said, dropping her voice to a whisper. His fingers were locked tight as she tried to pull them away from his face. It was a battle she eventually won, cupping his face in her hands. “Look at me.” The pads of her thumbs traced the sharp curve of his cheekbones. His blue eyes were unfocused, shining with tears, but he didn’t speak, even as her fingers slid back into his hair. “You’re unwell. I should fetch the doctor.”

  “No.” His body shook as the sun broke over the rooftops and flooded the floor of their room. He shut his eyes and moaned again.

  “You need a doctor. I’ll have the—” she stopped short of saying footman. There were no footmen or maids to help now. She was on her own. “I’ll fetch a doctor.”

  “No.” He wrapped his hand tight around her wrist as he spoke, wincing as he tried to open his eyes. He paled and let go suddenly, rolling to his side. Alex lunged for the small washbasin and threw his body behind the screen in the corner of the room.

  The sound of an empty stomach vomiting echoed around her. Minnie remained on the floor, tucking her knees to her chest. This wasn’t what she expected of her first day free of finishing school.

  “Alex?”

  He retched again. “Shite.” His shadow behind the linen curtain doubled into itself.

  “This is ridiculous,” she grumbled. She stood and walked to the curtain, sucking in a breath as she drew its corner back. She never had a strong stomach for such unpleasantness.

  Alex looked miserable; pallid and trembling. The stubborn man.

  “I have no time for games, Alex. You’re unwell. I’m going to help you to bed. Then I’ll fetch a doctor so that I may start my day. And that,” she said, bending down to wrap his arm around her neck, “is that, mister.”

  His head lolled to the side, knocking into hers. “With what money?” he asked, his voice gravelly.

  This was a case where his experience was superior to hers. Had she been so foolish to assume she could afford to buy a solution to every problem she came against?

  “Fine,” she said, keeping her voice soft. She deposited him on the bed and turned to the windows. There were no drapes to help filter the light. Minnie grabbed the threadbare blanket Alex had used as a bed and threw it over the window to little effect. She opened her Gladstone bag and sighed. She threw her lovely garments over the grimy windows to help darken the room. “If you say one word,” she warned, turning back to Alex. At least the morning light was dulled.

  He burrowed like a rodent under the covers and moaned.

  “Are you going to be sick again?” She sat on the edge of the bed and pried the pillow from his head.

  “No. Doctor.” He bit back another moan. “Promise me.” He opened his eyes and searched hers.

  She paused, thinking him daft, but she saw a strange fear in his eyes, palpable and earnest, so she bowed at his insistence. “Very well,” she bristled. “But tell me what is wrong so that I can go about my day.”

  “My head is about to explode.”

  “Surely not.” Her hand hovered over his hair, fighting back the urge to touch him. To take away his pain. “At least have the decency to crawl out into the hallway first. Emptying that washbasin will be a dirty enough job.”

  The slightest hint of a smile played at his lips before he winced again. Muscles contracted at his temple. Clearly, he was in as much pain as he claimed. She placed the pillow back over his head and gave it a small pat. “Close your eyes and rest. I must start my day.”

  His protest was muffled beneath the pillow, but it would take more than that to stop her now.

  Chapter 3

  Minnie held her breath as she knocked on the door down the hall, waiting. There was little she could do with the dress she owned. A trade would fix her problem. Then she could proceed with the day’s errands.

  The door opened. A girl not much older than Minnie stood buttoning her gown as a man sat on the bed and laced his shoes. For someone of delicate sensibilities, the scene was shocking. This was a world no proper lady should be introduced to, but Minnie had a stronger constitution than most.

  “Hello,” Minnie said, sticking her hand out for introduction. The young girl looked at Minnie then her outstretched hand, back and forth, until Minnie was forced to continue her one-sided conversation. “I’m in need of some advice.” Again, the girl stared back, her tawny brows drawing down over deep sapphire eyes.

  “What’s the trouble?” the man asked from behind, standing to tug on his waistcoat.

  “Nothing,” the girl said. “I’ll be a moment.” She grabbed Minnie’s hand and pulled them both across the hallway. “Are you in some kind of trouble? I haven’t seen you before. You must be new.”

  “No, no trouble,” Minnie said. Her cheeks heated as she realized the girl confused her as another tart at the boarding house. “I need to be rid of this new gown. I need something more...”

  She was still searching for the correct word when the other woman supplied, “appropriate.”

  “Yes. I need something more appropriate.” The word felt dirty on her tongue, like a nasty insult, but she smiled, hoping that the girl wasn’t offended.

  “I have just the thing if you can wait until the gentleman leaves. I’m Sarah, by the way.”

  Once the man left, Minnie followed Sarah into the small room. The bed was in disarray; a long rope lay over the covers, one end tied to the metal headboard.

  “A girl like you wouldn’t be in this part of London unless you landed in some sort of trouble,” Sarah insisted, opening a small wardrobe. She pulled out a navy dress, serviceable and plain-looking, perfect for Minnie’s needs.

  When she met Sarah’s stare, the truth fell from her lips. “My family and I had a difference of opinion.” It was then Minnie noticed the silky mark of a scar that ran across the girl’s face and the small disfigured shape of her bottom lip where the mark ended.

  “Is it to do with the man you came here with?” Sarah held the dress up to Minnie’s shoulders, testing its fit. The sleeves seemed a tad long, as did the hem, but it would do.

  “Yes,” lied Minnie, forgetting she had a pretend marriage to carry on. And to stop the questioning, she added, “My husband is unwell this morning.”

  Sarah handed the dress to Minnie and rushed over to the bed, grabbing the quilt’s edge and tossing it to the top of the bed, covering whatever secret that was laid bare for Minnie. “If you have errands to run, I’ll be happy to join you. I have some myself.”

  Friendship never came easy to Minnie. For one, she never knew man
y girls she could befriend. She had lived at Burton Hall in Yorkshire before she traveled to the East with her family. When she arrived at finishing school last year in London, the girls she had met teased and fussed over Minnie’s brazenness, claiming she was more a man than debutante.

  “That would be lovely,” she said, forcing a smile despite Sarah’s critical stare.

  “Very well. Put on the dress and I’ll meet you downstairs.” The way she spoke, the way her words dropped into the space between them like soldiers marching into battle, hinted to Minnie that her story wasn’t wholly believed.

  Except that was the truth. Minnie was in no trouble except for the trouble she had caused. Her escape was merely a chance to start anew on her own. The life of an independent woman. Except she wasn’t entirely independent, either. Her supposed husband lay in bed when she returned to change, vomit pooling around him and the floor. The first nudge of doubt started to creep in as she washed up the mess. She wouldn’t allow this to be a mistake. There was too much life to live for the biggest adventure of all to be considered a regret.

  §

  “Alex?” The room was dark, save for the dim light that glowed around her undergarments covering the windows. “I have something that will help.”

  Rustling bed linens was the only response. She sat on the edge of the bed and waited for him to find her, too frightened to touch him herself. Why, when he caught her in the alley, the world upside down, she’d nearly lost her ambitions to those eyes of his. And the accent didn’t help matters either.

  He inched closer, his head lying still on the mattress.

  “How are you feeling?”

  Alex grabbed the vile of laudanum from her hand and held it to his nose. “What happened to your dress?”

  “I sold it.”

  He sat up enough to take a swallow. “I’m taking you back tomorrow.”

  “I could make your life hell right now,” she warned. It was a foolish notion that perhaps with his aid she could survive longer. She didn’t need anyone to make her dream come true. She would just set out tomorrow for Leicester Square. Now that she had helped him, they were even.