A Proper Scandal

by Paula, Rebecca

  Alex laughed.

  “Yes, if you’ll just help me up,” she said, waving her arms, “I’ll right myself again. The damn chair needs to be fixed.”

  “I’m sure it does,” he said. “Chairs are known to be the most dangerous piece of furniture. Human death traps, I believe they were first called.”

  Minnie snorted a laugh as she reached again for her tiara, but it was lost in the wild snare of hair. “Then I’m lucky to ha-have,” she hiccupped, “to have survived the ordeal.” She yanked at the tiara, scrunching her nose as it refused to be freed from her tangled hair.

  “Yes.”

  Minnie waved her hand again, clutching at her sagging bodice in her free hand. “If you would be s-so kind, good sir.”

  Alex helped her to her feet. It took both of his hands to steady her as she swayed like a reed in a windstorm.

  “Oh my,” she whispered, her eyes large and blinking. “It seems,” she started, “why are you here?” she asked, not finishing her first thought.

  “I came to see you and to—”

  “I remember now that I don’t like you much.” She wiggled in his hold, trying to free herself from his grip.

  “I imagine that’s true. I came to issue an apology.”

  “Did you?” she said, her eyes narrowing. Minnie paled, looking as if she would lose the contents of her stomach on his shoes. “You’re in my room.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  Alex wondered the same himself.

  “You can leave.” She pulled free, stumbling a few steps back. “I have a bath to take and I do not want you here,” she said as she continued to dip and weave, struggling to hold onto her sagging dress.

  “Let me,” he said, rushing forward to grab her elbow and save her from falling flat on her face.

  “I don’t need your h-help,” she slurred.

  “Of course not.” Did she have to make everything difficult? “But stay still anyway before you fall.”

  The protest was there on her face, before fear and confusion set in. “Why are you here?” she asked in a whisper.

  He untangled the tiara from her hair and handed it to her, careful not to show any pity.

  “You can be nice sometimes,” she admitted.

  “And I can be the biggest cad sometimes too. I’m sorry for what I said, Minnie.” That still didn’t seem adequate, so he added, “For acting as I did.”

  “F-forgiven.” She shoved her hand awkwardly at his for a handshake. But instead of shaking his hand, she rested into the crook of his shoulder. Her body shuddered against his, her tears soaking through his suit.

  “Are you alright?” he asked stupidly.

  “Yes,” she sniffed against his shoulder. “Of course.”

  “Of course,” he repeated, blowing out a steadying breath. He settled his arms around her, holding her dress up in the process.

  Minnie sucked in a few breaths, trying to speak, until finally she hiccupped. “I’m so foolish.”

  She quieted once he started stroking circles over her back. What else could he say? She was foolish. It may have taken him a few years to learn her true name, but one thing he had always known was that she was someone who acted first and faced consequences later. He cupped her face, drawing her eyes to meet his. “You’re beautiful, Minnie.”

  “I am?” Her eyes still brimming with tears.

  Good God, the woman could be daft. He dropped a kiss onto her forehead. “Yes, but I have a confession.”

  “Tell me your secrets, Alex.”

  She unsettled him so easily. He ignored her, saying instead, “I’m glad I know you, Minnie. The rest of Paris can keep their beloved Evangeline Dupree.”

  “Can I keep you?” She smiled before her cheeks grew red. “I think I’ve had too much to drink,” she murmured, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

  “I should be leaving.” He forced himself to shelve the idea that she cared for him. As if he knew what to do with such an emotion. “Would you like me to fetch your maid?”

  “Stay a while longer.” Minnie stepped out of his arms, forgetting to hold up her dress as she did so. “If you could help me out of my dress, I’ll let you go.”

  He averted his gaze, his fingers clenching and unclenching into a fist. “Your maid should help you.”

  “Are you blushing?”

  “Your maid—”

  “—have you grown shy on me? Last I remember, you had your hand down my dress, Alex.”

  His hand still burned at the very memory. She was making it difficult to forget.

  Her smile grew mischievous. “Fine.” She tried to undo the dress herself, but she nearly toppled until his hands came to her rescue.

  “You’re still stubborn as ever.” His fingers made quick work of the long row of tiny buttons at the back of her dress. It slipped down her body, pooling around her feet.

  “And take the bloody corset off.”

  He did as she wished and unlaced the corset. “Sit,” he ordered, fearing she would knock herself senseless if she attempted to pull off the stockings herself.

  She spun around and sat as instructed with a dreamy smile on her face, watching him sink to his knees. “You’re red,” Minnie observed as his hand reached from under her chemise to the top of her stocking.

  His fingers brushed the soft skin of her thigh and his heart began to race. Alex wouldn’t be like every other low vermin preying on Minnie. “I suppose you’re smiling because you’ve finally succeeded in sending me to my knees.”

  “You’re very handsome now.” Her finger ran down the length of his nose.

  “Flatterer,” he teased, his hand resting on her thigh.

  Her hand cradled his cheek. “Yes.”

  Without thinking, Alex pressed his lips against her bare knee. His fingers curled over her soft flesh, grounding him in the moment.

  “Sweet Alex.” She tousled his combed hair, determined to turn him out of sorts. There wasn’t a thing weak about her. She could falter and pause, but there was always a firm power just beneath the surface. She could cry, then conquer the world in the slip of a few minutes.

  He removed the stocking in haste, and stood. “I’ll bring your maid now. Rest, and I’ll call again soon.”

  “No need.” She lifted the chemise up and over her body. Her hips, her lovely, lovely hips, swayed from side to side as she sauntered across the room, collapsing into bed. Minnie rolled over, burrowing under the covers.

  “Minnie?” The mattress bowed as he crawled next to her.

  “Please don’t go,” she whispered, curling up into herself.

  He pulled the blankets down below her chin, her body shivering again. He sighed as he said, “You know I cannot stay.”

  “Just a while longer. The servants,” she stifled a yawn, “they won’t say anything.”

  “I want to believe that, but I can’t.” He ran his finger down her nose before sweeping over the apple of her cheek to brush away the tears. “You’re a terrible liar.”

  Minnie pulled herself out of the blanket cocoon to rest her head against his chest. “Please...just...Alex,” she yawned. Minnie closed her eyes and fell asleep as Alex slowed his breathing, listening to the rhythmic beat of his heart, trusting that with Minnie in his life once more, things would become a little more bearable again.

  Chapter 12

  “Oh, she’s a terrible drunk.” Minnie sipped her wine. “She carries on, kicking her way through the club, stealing drinks. The men adore her.” She smiled over her glass at Alex.

  “Not with you there.”

  “Are you flirting with me, Alex?”

  He laughed, kicking his feet up onto a velvet ottoman, his white shirt still unbuttoned. He looked deliciously undone, all tussled and rosy-cheeked from an afternoon nap. She caught his stare and looked down at the floor, her hand fussing over the long tassel of her dressing gown.

  “Have something to eat, Min.”

  The feast she ordered still sat on the table covered by
elaborate silver domes. When she had asked her lady’s maid to fetch dinner for two, the woman raised an eyebrow. It gave Minnie momentary pause. It was wrong to host a dinner for a friend in her private compartments while living under another man’s roof.

  He traced his fingers over the rim of his glass in lazy circles. Her knees buckled at the thought of his hand doing the same to her body. She swayed toward him. “She hates me,” Minnie continued, turning to the fire. She looked into the mirror and saw that he was still looking at her. He caught her gaze and she smiled back, her throat tightening.

  “Darling?”

  Minnie closed her eyes. She wished he would stop calling her that ridiculous pet name. It did unnatural things to her mind, tricking her to soften toward him.

  “But she’s older. I suppose all she has left is to kick up her skirts for any man willing to pay for her drink. It’s sad, really...” Minnie’s voice trailed off when she caught his look through the mirror again. It felt as if he stood right behind her, drawing his index finger lazily over the curve of her shoulder, slowly winding her up. The magic of it was that he still sat in the chair, some twenty feet across the room.

  Her bedroom was much larger than the small attic they shared at Mrs. Bowen’s, but in that instant, it didn’t feel larger. It seemed as if the walls were closing in around her as she broke their staring contest.

  “Show me how she dances. I missed her performance the other night.”

  She knew what he was playing at, but she would gladly give in if it meant he kept smiling at her like he was. That smile. It was pure magic.

  Minnie switched on the phonograph by her vanity. She had insisted Monsieur Peprin buy one for her so she could dance in her room. She never thought she would dance again for Alex.

  “You know,” she started, “I don’t think I’ll dance for you again. You laughed at me last time.”

  “I was an idiot,” he said, trying to pull on a straight face at his denial.

  “Yes, you were. You thought Anne Gibbons was a horrible dancer.”

  “Never happened.”

  She nodded knowingly, padding over to the table dressed with a fancy dinner. Her fingertips stretched over the tablecloth in a slow drumming beat.

  Alex pulled on the tassel of her dressing gown. With another hard tug, he could open it and change everything between them once more. All afternoon, they had been dancing upon the edge of more. That promise of something else, something larger; something Minnie wanted badly because it was forbidden. They were barefoot in her bedroom, the phonograph dictating a steady drum of beats in the charged air, and he looked at her as if he had always been her lover. They weren’t young and innocent anymore, and that changed everything between them. Minnie licked her lips, unsure of how to give voice to the new emotions spiraling out of control within.

  He reached out and toppled her, pulling her into his lap as if she were parading as his paramour back in London again. This time, his body didn’t flinch away as it once had. Her bare legs slipped out from beneath her robe, hanging over the side of the chair. He reached over her to the table and plucked a strawberry free from the tower of fruit, and took a bite. The scent of her fancy French soap still clung to him.

  “I have to leave.” A drip of juice clung to his lips as she waited, eager to lick it away but frightened to scare him off. He lifted the strawberry to his lips again, but her hands stilled his, and greedily pulled it to her mouth. She took a bite and reveled in its lush sweetness. She nipped again as he tried to pull it away from her lips.

  “You should stay a while longer,” she said, reaching for his wine. Alex raised a questioning brow at her request. “I like,” she started, taking a long sip, “having you here.”

  “I came to give you an apology and pay a respectable social call. So far, I’ve undressed you, slept with you...”

  They had not slept together in that way, but at his mention of their newfound intimacy, her body warmed.

  He cleared his throat. “And now you’re in my lap with your lovely legs bare for all to see.” His fingers skimmed over her calf, a quick burning touch. “I apparently excel at apologies but am terrible at being respectable.”

  “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

  “I need him to pay, Min. There’s a lot riding on it back in London.”

  “You can leave.” She swung her feet to the floor and stood. “But you owe me a dance first.”

  “I thought you were going to dance for me.”

  “You cannot dance, Alex Marwick,” she said, waving a teasing finger in his direction.

  He scoffed. “I can dance.”

  Minnie waved him off.

  “I can.” I’ll dance with you another night if...so help me God, if you keep looking at me like that I’ll...”

  “What?”

  “I’ll stay,” he answered with a dangerous grin. “I’ll stay a bit longer.” Alex stood, his shirt undone, his pants wrinkled, stalking closer. “Always a bit longer,” he whispered, pulling her tight into his arms.

  Minnie kissed the hollow of his throat before he spun her out of his arms. Her robe curled around them. He snapped her back against his body.

  “The tango. Very scandalous.” She didn’t want to imagine who he had learned this dance with.

  “The waltz doesn’t suit you,” he said, guiding her body up against his. When their eyes met, he said, “You’re a terrible friend, Minnie.”

  Her fingers played at his hair. “Is that so?”

  With a quick step to his left, then his right, he moved her across the floor as if it was a ballroom. Even in the more liberated audiences of Paris ballrooms, their touch would be scandalous. With each turn, more flesh was revealed, more secrets unearthed.

  “Yes,” he agreed, kissing her neck. Just as she struggled to catch her breath, falling over herself from his lips on her skin, he dipped her and the world turned upside down. He paused there, with her folded in half, resting in the strength of his hand.

  “Mr. Marwick,” she chided. His other hand traced her breastbone.

  He smiled, brushing back the fabric to expose her breast, and bent lower still, flicking his tongue over her nipple. Her body tightened, longing for his lips to continue their exploration. He trailed soft kisses up her throat, slowly drawing Minnie up to her feet. She pulled back, placing her fingers over his lips, their scandalous tango all but forgotten as they stood toe to toe. He drew her fingertips into his mouth, running his tongue over them in a dizzying swirl.

  Minnie slipped her hands under his shirt to rest upon his bare shoulders and paused, before slipping his the shirt down his arms to hang at his wrists.

  He pulled at the knotted band of her robe until she was close and kissed her forehead. “Tell me what we’re playing at.”

  Bringing Alex into her life complicated everything when she was finally beginning to sort it all out. But she wanted him. The only answer she had were her lips and her tongue, her flesh pressed against his. That much made sense.

  “Why do you make everything so complicated?” he whispered into her ear. He shrugged out of his shirt.

  She licked the underside of his throat and nipped at his chin in response.

  “You’ll be the death of me, Min.”

  She raked her fingers over his back.

  His muscles tightened in response. With a swift motion, he swept her off her feet and laid her down onto the bed as if she were an object he coveted. Minnie licked her lips, tasting him, wanting more. She arched upward, trying to erase the distance he put between them. She twirled a chocolate lock of hair around her finger, rocking her hips across the mattress as she did so.

  With the slow slip of her fingers, she traced her hand down the edge of her dressing gown, holding his attention as she tugged the knotted tassel. Her gown fell open. The soft whisper of satin and velvet pooling around her naked body filled the silence until his stilted breath cut through the air in a hungry hiss.

  Minnie tossed her head back to the ceiling as she drew
her fingers over the swell of her hips, the plane of her stomach, until she met the peak of her breast. “Touch me,” she invited him.

  Alex’s eyes flared, betraying what he had so far neglected to say: that he desired her, too. The tension in his body melted as he levered over her, pressing her into the mattress. The warmth of his skin made her shiver and burn, his need settled between her naked thighs.

  She rolled her hips to feel him against her. “Yes.”

  “Here?” he asked, brushing the lightest touch over the underside of her breast.

  Minnie closed her eyes tight as he mirrored his touch over her other breast, sending an icy shiver down her spine. Her toes curled into the sheets. She edged up the mattress, welcoming his advance as he trailed his lips lower to her stomach.

  “And here?”

  “Yes.” Her breath hitched as his tongue moved over her in delicious, slow circles. And his teeth. Good heaven, his teeth nibbled at her skin, bringing forward a sweet pain that wakened her, bringing her to life as if she had been half-asleep for twenty-one years.

  “Here?” he asked again, this time running his fingers over the sharp line of her hip. Before she could answer, his fingers slipped over the delicate skin of her inner thigh, and she sighed, opening her legs to him. His fingers moved lower until he slipped a finger inside of her, taking in her surprised gasp with his mouth. He moved his fingers in slow strokes that made her heart trip and race. His palm rested against her before his thumb started to circle her core, drawing out another throaty sigh from her.

  “And here, Min?” he whispered into her hair.

  His touch was causing the strangest sensation in her limbs. She was dizzy and ticklish and hot, all at once. All too much. She writhed under him, moving her body to answer his touch. She moaned as he slipped in another finger, his lips traveling down from her lips, to her neck, to her breasts. Minnie was being pulled every which way. “Your trousers,” she said, the frustration mounting within. The rest of her sentence fell away when his lips closed around her nipple and tugged.

  “I’m not in any rush, darling, are you?” He spoke as if he were calm and unaffected, but she felt his excitement against her leg, she heard his breath hitch with each soft moan.