Scandal at the Midsummer Ball

by Marguerite Kaye

  The next course came and she pressed her advantage, taking a rather wicked bite of fresh asparagus, but Kael merely grinned and when no one was looking, mouthed the words, not rebellious.

  And it wasn’t. She had yet to declare her independence to anyone but herself; Markham was tongue-tied in her presence, a sure sign he had staked his hopes on making this match, and Kael Gage had his foot up her skirts. Things were getting serious. She had to get serious too.

  Chapter Five

  Monday June 16th

  Brockmore Manor House Party

  Programme of Events

  Masterclass in the Acrobatic Arts to be

  held in the Ballroom

  Expedition to a Mystery Beauty Spot

  Musical Evening with Recitations and

  Recitals from the guests

  The girls were all giggling by the time Zara arrived at the acrobatic exhibition the following morning, each of them dressed in split skirts for easier mobility and excitedly ogling the gentlemen across the ballroom. The gentlemen too had stripped down for the activity, an act that required more courage from some of them than others. Her eye went immediately to Kael, who wore breeches splendidly, showing off well-muscled calves as he stretched in warm up. But others like Melton Colter could be kindly characterised as ‘slender’ in build.

  Katerina Vengarov gathered the women around her and began offering instructions. The ladies would be allowed to attempt some juggling while the gentlemen would get to try tumbling. Zara thought tumbling looked like more fun, all that twisting and turning of one’s body, and testing one’s strength. Only Colonel Fergus Kennedy and Kael seemed to be having moderate successes. In fact, it looked like so much fun, she was having trouble concentrating on her juggling. She dropped the balls yet again.

  Katerina hurried over with a laugh. ‘Miss Titus, you have to pay attention to your skittles!’ In a low voice she added, ‘And less attention to the fine men over there, although I know it can be hard.’ Katerina gave her a conspiratorial glance and Zara noted Katerina’s own gaze drifted towards Colonel Kennedy more often than not. ‘Which one is yours?’ Katerina gave her a friendly smile.

  ‘Oh, none of them are mine,’ Zara said, flustered at the bold question.

  Katerina bent to pick up the skittles. ‘Surely one of them is? Don’t be shy, we all know the purpose of this party.’

  It would be easy to confide in this pretty Russian girl, but Zara didn’t dare. Who knew what tales might get carried to the duke’s ear; the girl was in his employ. Zara opted for her tried-and-true strategy of another smile. A smile could mask so many things. ‘Perhaps there’s one or two I might consider.’ Zara said with an air of mystery. It seemed to satisfy Katerina.

  ‘Well then, I will leave you to your “juggling”, as it were.’

  Juggling didn’t hold her attention for long. Verity Fairholme was having far more success and Zara’s competitive nature couldn’t stand to be so obviously bested by her long-time rival. She found it more interesting to watch others. Colonel Kennedy had come over to compliment Verity only to receive yet another cold shoulder, an apparent repeat of last night’s brush-off during cards. Jeremy Giltner’s posturing indicated he was spending most of the time pretending not to know Catherine Downing was looking at him.

  Zara let her own eyes do some drifting of their own back to Kael, who was doing a trick called a round-off which required his body to do a turning handstand in motion. His shirt had come out of his waistband, showing off the firm muscles of his abdomen. He caught her stare and grinned. He put a hand to his head, discreetly miming a headache and pointed to her, nodding his head towards the open doors leading outside.

  Ah, she was to feign a headache and excuse herself. Brilliant. Zara smiled her response and headed over to murmur her apologies to Katerina before slipping out the French doors and into the gardens. Kael joined her ten agonisingly long minutes later.

  ‘I’m not interrupting your fun?’ she queried, scolding him a bit for having taken so long.

  ‘You are my fun.’ Kael caught her about the waist and swung her around in a circle. She gave a gasp of surprise. No one had swung her about since she was a little girl. ‘Besides,’ he said, setting her down, ‘Alexandr Vengarov is a show-off, not a teacher. He’s more interested in preening before the ladies.’ Kael snorted. ‘He doesn’t have a chance with any of them, if that’s what he’s after. I’m not sure it is. I think he just likes being admired by anyone.’

  ‘Why wouldn’t he have a chance? I am sure a lot of girls find him attractive. You aren’t jealous, are you?’ Zara teased. Kael had been rather hard on the Russian acrobat and Zara felt compelled to take up the standard on his behalf.

  ‘It’s not so much about him as it is the ladies present,’ Kael clarified. ‘They’re all practical sorts at the end of the day. They might admire his body from a distance but that’s all.’ There was derision in that comment directed at the girls who wouldn’t break the mould of delicate womanhood for the sake of adventure. The realisation emboldened Zara. Frankly, she wanted to break the mould. She wanted to please Kael, to be wild for him and for herself.

  ‘I hate moulds. I detest being crammed into one, like being stuffed into someone else’s clothes.’

  Kael’s hands rested at her waist, unwilling to release her. ‘Is that why you came out here? To break some moulds?’ He gave her a wicked smile, his voice low in sensual invitation. She knew what he wanted her to say.

  Zara tried some daring of her own. She wrapped her arms around his neck, revelling in the ease with which she touched him. ‘I came out because I wanted more of yesterday.’ It was true. She wanted more of the adventure he’d offered her. How liberating it was to speak her mind without worrying about offending someone or showing herself in a poor light.

  ‘Not here.’ Kael whispered. ‘Come with me.’

  It turned out the Duke of Brockmore’s estate was brimming with buildings one could sneak off to: a pinery, an orchid house, the boathouse, the summerhouse, the carriage house by the stables and, of course, that delightful little cottage on the island. They opted, however, for the maze.

  ‘Aren’t you afraid we’ll get lost?’ Zara laughed as Kael led her through the turns.

  ‘Would you mind?’ He was flirting with her and she loved it. No one, not even Haymore, had flirted with her before. Good girls were too delicate for teasing.

  ‘I wouldn’t mind being lost, but I would mind being found.’ If they had to call out to be rescued, there would be no explaining why they were in the maze together. It would be one way of settling the question of her future. She studied Kael’s broad shoulders. Would the duke make her marry Kael if they were caught? Would Kael do it? He wasn’t the sort to play anyone’s puppet. Ruined reputation or not, he didn’t strike her as a man who would marry a girl just because someone told him to, even if that someone was a duke.

  A shiver went through her. If that was true, then Kael Gage was the most rakish man she’d ever been in contact with. Her reputation was in real danger when she was alone with him and yet she was not afraid. She definitely didn’t feel fear when she was with him. She felt excitement. She liked being with him.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ he assured her. ‘It’s all right turns to the centre. We should almost be there.’ On cue, the centre of the maze came into sight, decorated with a giant statue of Atlas and a bench to view the artwork from.

  ‘How did you know it was all right turns?’ Zara asked. She would have been hopelessly lost.

  ‘It seems like something the duke would do.’ Kael grinned. ‘A subtle reminder that he is always “right”, just like Atlas here is no doubt meant to be some symbolism of the duke’s power. He carries the weight of the world on his shoulders.’ Kael made a wide gesture with his arms and laughed.

  ‘That’s a fairly arrogant interpretation of things.�
� Zara wandered the perimeter of the centre, looking up at the statue, aware that Kael had stopped by the bench and followed her with his eyes. He was not bothered by her argument. He merely shrugged and mounted his defence.

  ‘The duke is a fairly arrogant man. Everything at this party is designed to have us jumping at his behest. Think about it, it’s all like a labour of Hercules, all of us jumping through hoops in order to be able to claim our prize. We began with the conversational trials, if you will, at the boaters’ luncheon—our first opportunity to test the waters. Today was the physical trials, in case you didn’t guess. How often do you get a sanctioned opportunity to appear in dishabille in front of the female guests at a house party? Tonight, the musicale will be an obvious test of genteel talent for male and female alike. The week will be full of such trials. All the activities are designed to showcase attributes someone may want a spouse to possess.’

  ‘Are you always this cynical?’ Zara stopped her perambulation of the little square in front of the bench where Kael sprawled.

  ‘I’m always this honest.’

  Zara cocked her head and offered him a coy smile. ‘All right, let’s test your hypothesis. Why did we tour the gardens and the stables then, separately?’

  ‘That’s easy.’ His dark eyes danced. ‘There is always the reminder to each of us that the duke is the one with the power. Why was the theme for last night’s dinner “The sustainability of the Brockmore estate”? I assure you, it wasn’t done without purpose.’

  ‘I knew the party was all matchmaking, but I’d never thought of all those details being so deliberately designed.’ She suddenly felt naïve, she who had thought she’d so expertly navigated the ton for three years. It was quite a web the duke had spun. She reached for Kael’s hand and pulled him up. ‘I didn’t come out here to talk about the duke. I believe I mentioned already that I came out here because I wanted more of yesterday.’ An escape from that intricate web of matchmaking, a glimpse of what freedom could bring, what it could feel like.

  Kael’s hands were at her hips, a position that was becoming welcome and familiar. She liked the feel of his hands on her. ‘You are a greedy miss, Zara Titus.’ He laughed, obliging her with a kiss. She took advantage of having him in dishabille to run her hands beneath the loose folds of his shirt, feeling the hard planes of his body against her palms.

  ‘We can do more than this, Zara.’ he whispered against her ear as her hands moved over the flats of his nipples. ‘We don’t have to settle for stolen kisses and the press of clothed bodies. Come with me this afternoon. Skip the mystery tour and we’ll make our own. Meet me at the pinery after lunch.’

  She answered before she could think. ‘Yes.’

  * * *

  Lunch was something of a trial all its own. Zara hated, positively hated, watching Kael with Ariana Falk. It was the third time they’d been paired together and it did make Zara wonder. Was Kael really here just to escape some unpleasant situation in London? Did he entertain hopes of snaring Ariana as a bride? Was she merely an attraction on the side while he pursued something more serious with Ariana? Jealousy stabbed hard when he handed Ariana her dropped napkin. Was he meeting her in secret too? All these questions made it difficult to concentrate on Markham’s attentions. Markham was disappointed to hear she wouldn’t be on the mystery tour. But that was nothing compared to her mother’s concern. Zara didn’t think she’d ever convince her mother to go on the tour without her. ‘You can keep an eye on Markham,’ Zara finally suggested. The idea that her mother could somehow be her representative in pursuit of Markham won the day at last.

  Being bad certainly took a lot of work. She was, horror of horrors, sweating by the time she reached the pinery. Kael was already there, waiting in the humid interior. ‘Trouble with your mother?’ he drawled knowingly.

  She was hot and the remark made her prickly. It made her sound as if she were a child tied to her parent’s apron strings. Which you sort of are. She didn’t care for the reminder even if it was true. ‘I was concerned you might have trouble leaving Miss Falk,’ she snapped.

  Kael seized her around the waist and drew her close, his mouth pressing hard to hers, his words a primal growl. ‘There is only you, Zara.’

  They did not stay at the pinery. Instead, they sought a cooler sanctuary along the river. ‘I found a swimming hole on my morning ride,’ Kael announced proudly. ‘Just perfect for a hot afternoon like this.’

  The entendre was not lost on her and she shivered in spite of the heat. Kael wasted no time in pulling off his boots and socks. He dragged his shirt over his head and tossed it aside with easy abandon, comfortable in the baring of his body. He turned towards her, letting her look her fill. ‘Zara, I don’t mean to swim in my clothes.’

  Zara gave him a coy smile. ‘Good. Neither do I.’

  Chapter Six

  He loved it when she talked like that, showing him the bold woman inside the lady. Kael held her eyes as he shoved his trousers over his hips, revealing himself fully to her as her gaze travelled the length of him, stopping to rest on his core. Her hazel eyes went wide with appreciation and he felt uniquely pleased that she found him so well endowed. It had been a long time since a woman had looked at him in fascination. There was something empowering and potent about being a woman’s first. He’d forgotten how that felt.

  He hadn’t been a woman’s first anything for quite a while, in part because the sort of woman he consorted with hadn’t had firsts for ages and in part because innocence was a messy business. He didn’t have time for tears, regrets or unfulfilled expectations—mainly marriage proposals that failed to materialised. Experienced women knew the rules, innocent girls did not. Zara Titus was somewhere in between—innocent most certainly, but not unapprised of the rules. It made her exciting. How far would she go?

  Kael crossed his arms over his bare chest. ‘Now it’s your turn.’

  She gave him a coy smile. ‘You’ll have to help. Dresses are not as easily discarded as trousers and shirts.’

  He took up a position behind her, his fingers working the laces of her gown. He had the dress off in record time. This disrobing was not a seduction. He wanted her in the water as quickly as possible. She did hesitate once her dress pooled at her feet, her fingers stalling on the lacy straps of her chemise.

  Kael dropped a kiss on her shoulder. ‘Don’t be skittish now, Zara. You will be beautiful to me, have no worries.’ He helped her with the undergarments, his hands encouraging hers until she was naked too. Zara turned slowly, shyly, to face him, but there was boldness in her too. She made no effort to hide herself with crossed arms or discreetly placed hands. Kael sucked in his breath, his voice hoarse as he took in the round fullness of breasts, high and firm, set atop a trim torso that flared into softly curving hips and surprisingly long legs. ‘Venus rising from the sea could not be more lovely.’ Zara Titus was gorgeous in her gowns, but out of them she exceeded stunning. When was the last time a woman had stolen his breath? It seemed to be a day for firsts.

  Kael drew her to him, taking her mouth in a kiss, their bodies naked against one another at last. He lifted her in his arms and carried her to the water. ‘You do know how to swim, right?’ he murmured as the water rose over his thighs and tickled the cascade of her hair hanging over his arm.

  She laughed. ‘Yes. Lucky for you.’

  He set her down, steadying her until her feet found the silty river floor, and then he executed a shallow dive and swam away. She shouted her disappointment after him and he laughed. ‘If you want me, come and get me.’ To his great pleasure, she dove into the water and came after him. This was what he wanted—to play, to have some fun with her, and once they were relaxed and cool, they would play a different game.

  They swam and splashed, and occasionally shouted when they dunked one another. They tried the rope that was tied to a sturdy tree branch, Zara screaming her delight
the whole time. ‘I’ve never done anything like that!’ She laughed as she came up sputtering from her drop. ‘Let’s do it again.’ She raced him up the bank, winning handily after elbowing him in the gut. They swung on the rope until the river bank was slick with muddy footprints.

  ‘Oof!’ Zara slipped in the mud, going down hard, her rather lush rear end, which he’d been judiciously watching go up and down the bank, landing in a puddle. Kael laughed. It was a mistake. ‘You think it’s funny?’ Zara looked up at him. ‘Do you think this is funny?’ She flung a handful of mud at him, catching him in the chest.

  It was war then. She scrambled to her feet, inelegantly clawing her way to the rope swing, evading his hands as he grabbed for her ankles. But she couldn’t escape him for ever. He caught her in the shallows and the mudslinging continued until they were both a mess.

  ‘Pax!’ Zara cried, shaking mud off her hands. ‘We both need a bath.’

  ‘We’re in the perfect place for it.’ Kael set down his muddy ammunition. ‘Truce, Zara.’ He held out his hand and drew her out into deeper waters, watching the water climb up her legs, cover her to the waist. ‘If I was a painter, I’d call this Venus submerging.’

  She wrapped her arms about his neck and laughed, her eyes dancing. ‘I’d call it Poseidon seducing a water nymph. Or on second thought, maybe I’d just call it “the mud bathers”.’

  ‘I like the first one better. More flattering.’ Kael grimaced. ‘Mud bathers? Really?’ Whatever they called it, it was the most erotic bath he could recall taking, probably because she was bathing him.