Scandal's Mistress

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Scandal's Mistress Page 17

by Bronwyn Stuart


  “I hoped if I waited long enough that you would. And then you did.” His eyes narrowed. “What is a man supposed to think when the woman he desires enters his room after being invited?”

  “Must it always be about sex?” The question was crude but surely he had to see there may be other reasons for her to knock on his door?

  “Not always,” he admitted harshly. “But usually.”

  “Because I am your mistress?” She didn’t mean to sound so sharp but he cheapened her with his words.

  He shook his head. “Because you are a beautiful woman. Because you sleep meters away from me though I cannot touch you. Most of all, because I have tasted you, I’ve seen the promise in your eyes, how good things could be between us, yet you fight it.”

  “I have to,” she said vehemently, her hand slashing the air.

  “Why? Carmalina, you deny us both an infinitely precious experience.”

  “I cannot give in.” An infinitely precious experience? The pressure tightened in her chest until she thought she’d scream.

  “Must it be surrender? Why can it not be a change of heart?”

  Turning back to the view of carts rolling down the cobblestones outside, she wondered if he read her mind. Did he have a looking glass into her deepest, darkest desires? Had she not only moments earlier pondered the same question of heart? Was she not well within her rights to change her mind? There were only the two of them in this agreement; he would be the only one to know her weakness. But who did she fool? Clearly he already knew her weakness, otherwise he wouldn’t press the issue. Smug victory wouldn’t fill his eyes every time she slipped under his spell if he was unaware.

  When she didn’t answer, Justin sighed. “Lunch will be ready in half an hour.”

  “All right,” she replied, but he’d already gone. He obviously took her thoughtfulness to be refusal and as the door clicked shut, she wanted to cry. Why had she ever got herself into this position? Now she wasn’t so much worried about her fall from grace—that was inevitable—she now worried more about losing her heart to a man she had not yet been able to give her body to.

  * * *

  Lunch was a tense affair; the sexual energy crackled and came alive with the brush of his fingers against hers, the meeting of eyes over the corner of the table. They were so close, yet so far away and Carmalina worried they would grow further apart before having a chance to come together. Justin was distracted, lost in his own thoughts. She’d had to ask him twice what they were eating before he responded.

  Dinner was much the same. She’d expected to go out again or entertain in the house but when she’d asked him about it, his eyes had taken on a strange gleam and he’d responded with a shake of his head. She wanted to ask him how they could further his scandal if they were not seen out and about, but her courage had failed as her lips opened but she’d kept her thoughts to herself. Something had happened between them, something she was unaware of but it lurked like a threat to her sanity and their tender new relationship.

  Did she cause the tension by holding back? Or was he the cause by pushing her when she had already said no? But when she really thought about it, he hadn’t pushed, pleaded or begged. Justin had accepted her terms and her pulling away with a nonchalant shrug and a lazy smile. Did he even care that her soul was in turmoil, or was she yet another conquest to brag about to his friends?

  Carmalina didn’t like the track her thoughts skated down. She walked the edge of a slippery slope and one wrong move would send her falling to her demise.

  Shaking away the morbid thoughts, she rose to excuse herself from the dining table, but he shot a hand out and gripped her arm.

  “Please don’t run away, bella.”

  “I am tired, my lord.”

  “Are we back to that?” he asked, his eyes weary.

  “I don’t know, are we?”

  Her skin heated under his intense stare but she didn’t cower, didn’t run. She merely wanted to flee the tension that held them in thrall.

  “Come to the library with me. We can play a game of chess.”

  Carmalina would have refused but his quietly spoken words along with his weary gaze worried her. Perhaps he simply didn’t want to be alone.

  “One game and then I shall retire.”

  The smile that lifted his lips was not his usual energetic one; this one held sadness and despair and made her want to wrap him in her arms and hold him until the pain disappeared.

  Rising from his barely eaten meal, he gestured for her to lead the way. As he walked behind her the burn of his gaze on her back unsettled her and she had to resist the impulse to escape. Despite his mood swing, the lion still stalked.

  Carmalina opened the door to the library and stepped into the room. The fire roared and enveloped her in warmth. This room felt like home. As a little girl, her father had had a very impressive library and the smell of old books was nostalgic.

  “Sherry?” Justin asked, going to the sideboard and pulling out two large glasses.

  Carmalina nodded. She could certainly use a drink to calm her nerves.

  After he’d poured a liberal dose in her glass and then filled his with a different amber liquid, he waited for her to sit in front of the chess table before falling into his own seat.

  He didn’t make a move to start the game, merely reclined in his chair and studied her at length with hooded eyes. “What happened in the park this morning?”

  Tearing her gaze from his, her heart leaped in her throat. Had he already heard about her altercation with Claire’s mother?

  “What makes you think anything happened?” she countered, willing her voice to stay calm.

  “When you returned, Newberry noticed you were troubled and then you came to speak with me but we were interrupted.”

  “It’s not important,” Carmalina told him with a shake of her head, her fingers hovering over a white pawn.

  “It is if someone or something upset you.”

  “I was merely reminded that I am no longer fit to play with children who aren’t my own.”

  “By whom?”

  She didn’t want to look at him. Anger tinged his voice and she didn’t want to make it worse by revealing the tears that welled in her eyes. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “The hell it doesn’t!” Justin roared. He rose from his seat and slammed his glass down on the middle of the chessboard; the delicate pieces rattled and fell over. “Did someone say something to offend you this morning?”

  “She said nothing that wasn’t true.” Carmalina clasped her hands in her lap and tried not to let him see just how deep the woman’s words had cut.

  “What did she say?” This time he growled the question as he stood over her.

  “She said what I do is shameful and that I am not to return to the park.”

  “Bitch.” Even though he muttered the insult, Carmalina heard it as though he’d shouted.

  “It is not her fault.” She wasn’t sure who she defended. Herself or Claire’s mother. “She was protecting her child.”

  “From who?”

  “From scandal! From a whore! From me.” Her last word broke on a sob and the next thing she knew, she was in Justin’s arms, cradled against his chest.

  “You are not a whore,” he told her as he stroked her hair and held her tight.

  Carmalina hiccupped as her sobs turned to angry heaving breaths. “I am. Do you know what would happen if others found out I played with Claire? She would have been involved in the scandal as well.”

  “She is a child. She will not remember any of this.”

  “But the ton will. Anything I touch from here on in will be tainted just as I will be.”

  “Nonsense,” he huffed, his breath stirring her hair.

  “It’s true. I would have ruined Claire’s life just as I ruin my own.”

  Justin abruptly let her go and held her at arm’s length, “Why did you agree to be here then? If I am ruining your life, why did you say yes?”

  “My life w
as already ruined!” she shouted, her temper rising with her voice.

  “What are you talking about?”

  The truth would have to come out eventually. She guessed now was as good a time as any. “I had no other choice.”

  Justin stared hard at her for a long minute before he growled through a clenched jaw. “Explain yourself.”

  His hands tightened dangerously on her arms until she cried out, the hated words tumbled free in a rush. “My voice is failing and I could not return to the theatre. I had no money and no friends and I could not find a different position because I am already judged fallen…” Her broken voice trailed off, filled with shame.

  His grip loosened. “You mean you can no longer sing?”

  She wrenched herself free and stumbled for the door. She had to get out of there. She had to leave before he threw her out.

  “Answer me!” His shouted command stopped her still, her hand hovered over the door handle.

  Carmalina lifted her chin and turned to stare him in the eye. The least she owed him was the truth. “I can no longer sing every night. My gift has been failing for months.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his tone lowered so he no longer yelled.

  “Would you have still wanted me? If I’d come with my bag in hand and told you the truth, would you have wanted me for your scandal?”

  “I don’t know, but you still should have told me. I would have been able to help you.”

  “What could you have done? Why would you want to help me? You didn’t know me, and you still don’t.”

  His voice rose again as he spiked a hand through his hair. “I want to get to know you but you run each time we get close.”

  “You will not raise your voice to me in anger,” she reminded him, her own tone dangerously low.

  “Confound it, woman, you will not run from me. Tell me what you want!” He was still shouting as she turned back to open the door and flee.

  But then Carmalina paused and thought about it for a moment. Really thought about what she wanted. She had no idea. It was wicked for her to want him, and yet she couldn’t help herself. She was going to hell anyway so she may as well go in style.

  “I want you,” she whispered as her forehead thudded against the door panel in defeat. She could no longer deny her feelings, the longing in her heart.

  “What did you say?”

  She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, ready for him to reject her and tell her to leave, she repeated herself, this time a little louder. “I want you.”

  * * *

  Justin narrowed his eyes and stared at her tear-streaked face, defiant to the last.

  “Do you want me because you feel the desire that pulses between us, or because you have no other choice?” He didn’t want her to answer. He wasn’t even sure why he’d asked.

  He should have hauled her into his arms then and there and taken what she offered. He had her at his mercy but he would not bed a woman who didn’t want to be bedded. He would not let her sell herself for a roof to live under and food in her mouth.

  “That is the only thing I do have a choice over, Justin. My body is my own and who I choose to give it to is my choice.”

  “Carmalina, why did you not tell me the truth?”

  “Can we not keep some secrets secret?”

  He, more than anyone, knew some things were best left unsaid. “Are you going to stop running away from me?” Her hand still gripped the door handle at her back when he paused just out of reach. “Will you surrender to me, Carmalina?”

  “I thought it didn’t have to be surrender?” Her voice was low, husky; it called to him hypnotically, just another part of her siren’s spell.

  “I want you, Carmalina. But you have to come to me.” Justin held out his hand and waited for her next move. It had to be her decision, her choice. He would not have her any other way.

  For a moment they just stood. Then she released her grip on the door and threw herself into his arms, sealing her lips to his with a ferocity that buoyed his rising desire.

  He didn’t care that she’d lied to him, hell he didn’t care why she’d come to be in his home, to accept his scandalous offer, as long as he could be with her and know she wanted to be with him. That she didn’t do it because she had no other choice.

  No wonder she felt the whore. The thought that she had to exchange her body for his protection galled. She would have had it anyway.

  He was rather glad of her lies, otherwise he would have offered her protection without taking her as his mistress and then he wouldn’t be able to kiss her and contemplate where he would have her first.

  Justin picked her up in his arms, swung towards the door and carried her over the threshold. Their first time together would be perfect. He would have her in his bed where he had lain awake so many nights dreaming of her.

  But Justin hadn’t taken more than three steps when he heard voices.

  “The master is not in to anyone this evening.” Newberry’s imperious tone echoed through the entrance and down the corridor to where he stood but the distraction was overpowered by Carmalina’s sweet scent filling his nostrils, her warm weight nestled against his chest.

  “He will see us.” A voice boomed and what sounded like a cane tapped loudly on his tiles.

  “Dammit,” he cursed under his breath. “You gentlemen have impeccable timing,” Justin drawled as he stepped out of the shadows.

  “So it is true then?”

  Justin faced Alexander over Carmalina’s dark hair. “Is what true?”

  “That you have invited your mistress to live in your home.”

  “It does look that way,” Justin grinned. Carmalina squirmed in his arms, but now he had her there, he didn’t want to let her go. His grip tightened protectively.

  “Have you no dignity?” Devlin asked, his cane tapping the floor with every syllable.

  Justin couldn’t be sure who his brother addressed, him or Carmalina. Regretfully he set her on her feet and with a whisper in her ear, sent her up the stairs and then blocked the way with his body so his brothers knew she was inaccessible to their insults.

  “What do you two want?” he asked with a heavy sigh. Visions of an entertaining evening vanished before his eyes.

  “We were going to make sure you didn’t ruin your life and hers.” Alexander pointed in the direction Carmalina fled.

  “What do you care?” Justin walked between his brothers and headed back to the library. He hoped they followed him and not his almost-mistress.

  “I don’t believe your flippancy!” Alexander thundered in his wake.

  “What is there not to believe?” Justin asked negligently as he poured himself another glass of whiskey. He didn’t offer his brothers any since they weren’t staying long.

  “Are you trying to take us all down with you? What will Mama do when she finds out about your trollop? How can I expect to find a respectable wife when my little brother is set upon ruining the family name?”

  “Carmalina is no trollop.” He swished the liquid around in the glass and stared at it as if it held the key to life itself as he leaned a hip against the edge of a tallboy.

  “You have very publicly installed your doxy in your home. The two of you were seen in a gaming hell where you let her speak to a lady as though she were her better. What else have we not heard?”

  Justin smiled. “That I offered her more money than the theatre to tend to my every wicked fantasy.”

  “That is where you found her?” Devlin asked, shock written all over his face.

  Where had these two been? Most of the ton knew Carmalina was his mistress and where she’d come from. Were his brothers deliberately obtuse or lodged in denial? For God’s sake, they were there the night he met Carmalina; they’d heard her sing too. Why had they not noticed her potential, her beauty? “She is of no concern to you or anyone else. She is under my protection, under my roof and you two have no say in the matter.”

  “Father will cut you
off for this little stunt, Justin. You go too far.”

  “I haven’t gone far enough,” he whispered, still staring into the amber fluid.

  “Why do you continue to be a plague to our family?” Alexander yelled.

  Justin finally looked up, stared his oldest brother in the eye, unashamed and unperturbed. “I do not want to be a part of this family.”

  “That’s ridiculous, you cannot choose your family,” Devlin scoffed.

  “I can choose who is not in my family.”

  “You think if father disowns you, it will be the end of it? That you will be able to go on your merry way, create scandal and break hearts wherever you go? When will you grow up and accept what you have?”

  Justin’s voice rose until he yelled back at his brothers, no longer attempting to conceal his anger. “When will the rest of you see me for the man I am? I am no brat to be tucked away because my family believes me to be worthless! Do you think I need any of you to lead my life? I will be perfectly happy and fine on my own!”

  Alexander shook his head. “That’s where you will end up one day, brother. Alone.”

  With that, the two of them turned and left. Justin sank down on the settee, his drink forgotten. Alexander always had a way of making him feel like a spoiled brat, like he pined for attention and that was why he did the things he did. He was wrong. On every score.

  He could choose his family and they would be his. He would love them as much as he was loved in return and he would live happily ever after without his father or his brothers sweeping him under their rugs and walking all over him.

  He didn’t need any of them.

  He didn’t.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It took Justin a little over an hour to get his rage under control, to remember that he and Carmalina had been interrupted yet again. So close! Why hadn’t he ignored his brothers and taken her to bed?

  He groaned and set his now-empty glass next to a now-empty decanter on his desk. He wondered why she hadn’t come down to find him? Did she have second thoughts—or fifth and sixth thoughts—and decide the interruption was more akin to divine intervention? He snorted. Nothing would save her from his bed.

 

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