Scandal's Mistress

by Bronwyn Stuart

  Nothing short of his death or total incapacitation.

  Unsteady feet carried him up the stairs but then he paused to rethink what he was going to do. Well on his way to being drunk, it would not be fair to go to her now, in her room, when he’d promised he wouldn’t. Even her revelation that she did indeed want him didn’t make it all right to go back on his word. He decided if she was still awake, he would continue her seduction until she whimpered and begged for more. If she slept, he would count it rude to wake her and continue his sensual assault in the morning.

  Justin went to his room and passed through the bathroom. He didn’t want to wake her if she slept. Edging her door open a fraction, he peered in and let out the breath he’d held.

  The only illumination came from the banked fire, and from where he stood, he could make out her still form beneath the velvet covers. Did she truly sleep or had she changed her mind, pretending so he would go away?

  Damn Alexander and Devlin both straight to hell. He could have spent the night enjoying the fruits of his labor, but no, he had to settle in to watch his songbird sleep. And sleep she did. Her breath was even and steady and as he got closer, he could see her hands clasped beneath her head, the heavy coverlet pulled up to her chin. She looked so angelic. He didn’t have the heart to wake her.

  When Justin sat on the edge of the bed, she stirred but didn’t wake. His thoughts wandered, scattered, uneven and with no direction. He hadn’t even told her about the dinner party they were to throw the following night. He’d invited some of his closest friends and their ladyloves for an intimate meal followed by… Well, they would wait to see what happened after dinner.

  It was set to be a pleasurable evening and after tomorrow night, anyone who didn’t know his mistress lived in his home well and truly lived under a rock. Ensuring Esmeralda and Brock attended, the ton would talk of nothing else for weeks.

  Esmeralda and he had had a very brief affair that ended before it had really had a chance to begin, but they remained very good friends. He knew a few whispers from her was all it would take to be all over town. It was like starting an avalanche with a pebble. Despite Carmalina’s reservations about her reputation, she was already irrevocably caught up in his scheme and it was far too late to salvage her from it. Even if he’d wanted to let her go.

  With fingers that shook, Justin brushed a curl from her forehead and placed a light kiss on the smooth skin. She sighed and snuggled deeper into her cocoon and he was envious of the blanket wrapped about her curves. She should have been in his bed this night and he would have wrapped around her and kept her warm.

  Dammit, why couldn’t anything go right? His other thirteen scandals had played out from beginning to end exactly the way he’d planned them all, except for the not being disinherited part. Why was his father so stubborn? Had he finally shoved Justin to the farthest recesses of his mind, happy to ignore him and his exploits?

  With one last gaze at Carmalina, he left her room and went back to his own as quietly as he’d come. He’d wanted them to have been together by tomorrow night’s dinner party. He wanted everyone to see them united and happy and living in romantic bliss. He did not want his friends, or anyone else for that matter, to see him as a gentleman.

  * * *

  Bubbly voices, excited, and lots of them, woke Carmalina the next morning. She quickly dressed, tied her dark curls back as best as she could on her own and stepped out into the gallery. Maids everywhere dusted, wiped, washed.

  A few turned at her entrance but blushed and hastily turned away. Did everyone know what went on in this house? Carmalina had never seen so many women in the few days she’d been here. Surely if he had this many maids, she would have noticed them?

  Gathering her skirts in a tight grip, she went in search of Justin to find out why every inch of the house was in the process of being cleaned. She had a feeling she was not going to like his answer. For a moment, she pondered going back to bed and staying there. But to think of her bed made her cheeks flush brighter than the pink of her morning dress. She’d waited for him last night to come to her, even debated whether she should have climbed into his bed instead of her own. She’d heard the shouting match he’d had with his brothers, the slam of the front door, but still he hadn’t come.

  Worried he may need time to himself, she’d fallen asleep waiting to hear his footfalls on the landing. She wasn’t sure if the emotion she felt now was relief or disappointment. She was in his arms, on the way to his bed. Had she given in once again to his charm and magnetism? His touch and kisses? Should she be glad of the interruption? Never before had uncertainty plagued her mind so.

  “Good morning, my sweet.” His voice startled her back to the present and the closest maids giggled at his use of an endearment in front of so many servants. What he did next had her reeling.

  As soon as she stepped off the last stair, Justin gathered her into his arms and kissed her so passionately, she barely had time to draw breath before sinking into his embrace, kissing him back. He tasted of coffee and infinitely Justin with hints of sugary sweetness.

  He pulled away and with a smug grin asked, “Are you hungry?”

  All she could do was nod. She wasn’t hungry at all but she had to try to regain her wits. His unexpected kiss scattered her senses and she struggled bringing the threads back together. Wordlessly, she followed him to the dining room where more preparations were under way.

  “Are we entertaining?” she asked after he’d seated her in what was now her customary place by his side.

  “We, my dear, are having a dinner party.”

  Carmalina stared at the plate he set before her. “When?”

  “Tonight.”

  Her gaze snapped to his. “Tonight?” she squeaked. Could one throw a dinner party without notice?

  “Did you have other plans?” he asked, sarcasm lacing his deep rumble.

  “No, but…but…”

  “Relax, love. You’ll do fine. Just a few couples for dinner.”

  “Does this usually happen?” she asked, her eyes narrowed.

  “Friends often throw dinner parties for their other friends.”

  Carmalina knew he was being evasive. “Who exactly is coming to our dinner party?” Her apprehension crumbled beneath the weight of skepticism. There had to be a reason for the impromptu party.

  “Geoffrey, who you met at Lucifer’s. Matthew, Esmeralda and Brock. I daresay a few more, including other guests. Not everyone has replied to my invitation as of yet.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

  “It was an impromptu decision and I hardly thought you would object.”

  “I’m not objecting. I just don’t know how I will be ready. You could have told me yesterday. I don’t even really have anything to wear.”

  She knew she’d said the wrong thing when Justin’s brows rose and his eyes sparkled mischievously. “Why don’t you wear the gown you wore to Lucifer’s?”

  “It is not clean.”

  “Pity.” He smiled, and went on, “Madame finished all of your extra gowns and whatnots and had them delivered this morning. A footman has already put them in your room.”

  She’d almost forgotten the other gowns the dressmaker insisted she would require.

  “I’ve never really been to a dinner party before,” Carmalina admitted.

  “Just be yourself and everyone will love you.”

  His intense stare together with the silence unnerved her. And didn’t he have questions? She had hundreds. How he could he continue to remain calm while her insides churned so violently she couldn’t eat one bite of toast?

  When Justin went in search of his cook to finalize the menu, she sat in her chair at the table and toyed with her untouched food. Why did he say nothing? Did he wait for a sign to mark her ready or was the fact she fell asleep all that held him back? She knew inside the lion’s rough exterior lurked the heart of a gentleman. Yet he could have woken her. Why hadn’t he?

  While she pondered th
e mess her life had become she was unaware of the woman who entered on silent feet.

  “Well, I hope you’re happy with yourself.” The imperious, sarcastic tone was so sharp it would have sliced all the way to the bone had it been a rapier.

  Carmalina really didn’t have the strength to be confronted two mornings in a row by waspish women who thought they were better than her, so, without looking up, she smiled, squared her shoulders and replied, “I am rather happy, as a matter of fact.”

  “Why, you little hussy.” A slipper stamp sounded on the carpet.

  At the direct insult, Carmalina rose to her full height and turned on the woman, ready to slap her for speaking so but then she stopped, startled. This was no previous paramour of Justin’s, jealous of Carmalina’s place by his side. If her clothes and manner were anything to go by, this was Justin’s mother. Suddenly her territorial instincts flared to life more than if the intruder truly was a scorned lover.

  This woman was, in part, the reason Justin was as tortured as he was and Carmalina wasn’t going to make small talk or wear insult by a lady not fit to be called a mother.

  “I will not be slighted in my own home.” Carmalina lifted her chin high and went to pass the countess and leave the room before they both did something they would regret.

  The countess had other plans as she snaked a hand out and held Carmalina’s wrist in a cold, vicelike grip. “Do not make the mistake of getting comfortable. He will tire of you as he did the others and then you will return to the gutter from which you came.”

  Carmalina wrenched free of her grasp. It had much the same feel as she imagined a carrion bird would have with its large, sharp talons. “I assure you, I will be around for a long time to come. Your son is more than happy with my attentions.”

  When the woman’s face flushed a vivid red, a smile of satisfaction curved Carmalina’s lips. “Now, did you come here to start an argument or to see Justin?” She deliberately avoided saying “your son.” From the iciness this woman exuded, she could see why Justin’s mother had neglected him. She doubted the countess had a maternal bone in her entire body.

  “I came to see you,” the countess replied icily.

  “Me?” Carmalina was taken aback but only for a moment. Had the woman gone out of her way to come and insult her? She was sorely mistaken if she thought to run her off. Carmalina wasn’t going anywhere. Not after what they’d already been through; not after they’d finally reached this point with each other.

  “How much money do you want?”

  “I beg your pardon?” Carmalina asked, confusion back in place.

  The countess continued, unperturbed. “I presume you are here because you require money. I will pay you double what he has offered if you will leave and never return.”

  Carmalina’s mouth watered at the thought of so much money. She would never have to worry about where her next meal came from or if she would have a roof overhead from one year to the next. She could name her amount and be rich. She could retain the shred of the dignity lying with Justin would take away. The determination in the countess’s face was so transparently clear, she had no doubt the woman was serious.

  Then Justin’s face flashed before her eyes and the pain he tried to hide came rearing to life in the steely depths. She would not betray him. And she would not be bought like a common street whore, although the offer was tempting.

  “Must you always interfere, Mother?”

  Both women jumped at Justin’s harsh tone. Neither looked guilty in the least as he stared first at his meddling mother and second at the woman who was about to make a decision that would determine the path for the rest of both their lives.

  * * *

  “Well, my dear. Mother made you a perfectly respectable offer. It would allow you to retain the shreds of your reputation and start over somewhere new.”

  Carmalina rounded on him, her brown eyes wide with what he assumed would be guilt but held anger and resolution instead. “And what of my dignity?” she asked.

  “Dignity?” his mother scoffed. “You are a man’s mistress.”

  Before he could defend his songbird, Carmalina launched an attack of her own. “I still have morals and principles. Justin and I have an agreement and I will not break it.”

  He hadn’t realized he’d held his breath until it escaped him in a rush.

  “Morals?” His mother continued her tirade. “Your morals let you be bought by the highest bidder and you think you have a claim to morals? You are worse than a prostitute and you know it.”

  The crack from Carmalina’s palm as it connected with his mother’s cheek reverberated through the room and he wasn’t sure whether to interrupt or cheer for his mistress. He’d never before seen anyone hit his mother or talk to her the way Carmalina did. She certainly had more courage than he.

  “Do you not think I would be with him if he wasn’t to offer me money? A place to live?” Her voice was dangerously low, her hand still raised.

  Justin stepped forward, ready to intervene before his virago clawed his mother, but Carmalina wasn’t done.

  “Do you not think him worthy of a woman’s love? You certainly don’t think him worthy of a mother’s.”

  “How dare you speak to me like that? You know nothing of our family.”

  “I know you let him down, you and your husband. Had you loved him like he deserved to be loved, he wouldn’t be the man he is today doing the things he does.”

  “Justin, call for the Watch. I want this woman locked up where she can’t hurt anyone or spew any more lies.”

  Justin watched like an audience member at the edge of a stage. He was there but detached from the dramatic play. He’d stepped forward, almost between the two women but he wasn’t sure he could, or would, do anything to stop Carmalina from hitting her again. “I don’t think so, Mother.”

  “What?”

  “Do you know what the gossips will say tomorrow?” he asked.

  “What has that to do with anything?” she replied, clearly outraged that he’d refused her request.

  “The ton will buzz with the news of the fight the Countess of Billington had with her son’s paramour. The very violent, very physical fight.”

  His mother blanched and sank into a chair. She obviously hadn’t thought of the repercussions of her visit to his home in broad daylight, with servants crawling all over the place, would have. Clearly she hadn’t thought of much at all.

  Time for Justin to drive a nail into her well-worn scheme. “Father can ignore my scandals, but could he ignore yours?”

  “What are you talking about?” she whispered, now deathly pale.

  “Don’t be coy with me, Mother. You have blackmailed many a woman on my behalf and I should really thank you. You have spared me many tearful goodbyes and a reasonable amount of blunt these past few years.”

  “You knew?”

  “Of course I knew. You don’t think I’d let those women walk out of my life without an explanation, do you? After the first few, I gathered you would keep at it and I let you have your way.”

  “How could you do this to me, to your father, your family? You are a disgrace.”

  “You know what needs to be done, Mother. You alone can convince him to do it.”

  He didn’t have to say the words out loud. She’d known for some time that he’d tried to get himself cut off and she’d been in his father’s ear ever since, convincing him Justin would grow out of it, that it was just a phase.

  She was wrong.

  The tears that welled in his mother’s eyes were more forced than her smiles. He didn’t care if she hurt. He’d seen those tears time and again. She was an expert at making her eyes leak and appearing forlorn but he knew her heart was made of stone. Shame for her youngest son couldn’t be felt. That would mean she’d have to care for him in the first place. It would mean she had a heart in the middle of her chest rather than stone.

  “I think it is time you left.” Carmalina took the reins of their argument and, ju
dging by the murderous look in her eyes, she wanted to wrap them around the countess’s throat and choke her with the straps.

  “Yes, my dear.” Justin nodded. “We have more important things to do today.”

  “Please, Justin, you cannot do this. It will kill your father. He can’t take any more scandals.”

  “I doubt it, Mother.” They both knew his father was immune to Justin’s scandals so far, always using his money and influence to make them disappear before they harmed the Trentham name. This time, however, his father didn’t have enough money—or power—to silence his youngest son’s latest exploits. No member of the ton would ever get away with what Justin did right now. It would follow him around for the rest of his days in London, but that didn’t bother him either.

  Justin’s plans for the rest of his life included running Lucifer’s until he had enough money to start again somewhere new. He wanted to fade into obscurity until his name was but a memory to those who thought of him. He didn’t want to be famous. He didn’t want a seat in the House of Lords. He just wanted to be happy.

  “Newberry will show you out.” Justin gestured for his hovering butler to escort his mother from the room and then he slammed the door behind her.

  “Oh my.” He heard Carmalina’s gasp and turned to make sure she was all right.

  “I am so sorry, Justin. I didn’t… I mean, she deserved it… Oh, God. I just hit—”

  He cut off her ramblings by pressing his lips hungrily to hers. No one had ever stood up for him like that before. He would tell her later that slapping a countess across her aristocratic face was not the done thing, but for now, he had to show her how grateful he was that she sided with him. That her protection, her alliance was appreciated more than she would ever know.

  At Carmalina’s enthusiastic response, throwing her arms around his neck and snaking her fingers through his hair, he deepened the kiss and backed her up against the edge of the table. In one swift move, he lifted her so her bottom perched on the edge and he ground his erection into her so she could not mistake how much he wanted her. This time there would be no mistakes, no misunderstandings. And it wasn’t for scandal or even to make her his, for the victory or the triumph. In that moment Carmalina was his very own personal ray of sunshine, a beacon that showed his mother he was worthy of being treated like a fellow human being.