Scandal at the Midsummer Ball

by Marguerite Kaye

  Zara cupped her hands to scoop up the water and make a shower of it over his head after he’d taken a dunk to get off most of the mud. She ran her fingers through his hair, catching any chunks of dirt, her hands moving on to his chest. She scrubbed in circles, her palms running over his nipples and down his torso to his hips, his body coming alive in the wake of her stroke. Every place she touched was alight and eager for more. ‘I love your hands on me,’ he rumbled against her ear. ‘The only thing I could love better would be my hands on you.’

  He was seducing her now, no woman would mistake it for a simple bath, not the way he dripped water over her breasts, the way his hands lingered in her hair or the way he carried her to shore and laid her on the blankets. And she was ready for it, he saw the desire flicker in her eyes. The afternoon had been marvellous, a wicked adventure. To swim naked with a man was daring beyond imagining, but her body was primed now for something more and, heaven help him, so was his, but the choice had to be hers.

  Kael stretched out, naked and long beside her, his head propped in his hand as he drew circles on her belly. ‘In the maze, when you told me we could have more than stolen kisses, I had no idea you meant swimming nude,’ she prompted, her voice husky.

  Kael laughed, his dark hair dripping a slow rivulet on her breast. ‘What a leading comment, Miss Titus. One would think seeing a naked man wasn’t enough for you.’ It would have been more than enough for any of the innocent misses back at the party.

  ‘What if I said it wasn’t?’ Her face turned towards him, her tone serious, her eyes a dark green and full of desire. ‘What if I told you the sight of you only makes me want more.’

  Kael groaned a warning. ‘Careful, Zara. I am no saint.’

  Their eyes met and held. She was in earnest. ‘I don’t want to be careful. I’ve been careful my whole life and look what it’s got me. A broken engagement and a scandal, the two things a “careful” girl is supposed to avoid. As for saints, Haymore was supposed to be one and we all know how that turned out.’ There was remorse and anger in those words.

  ‘How did it turn out, Zara? The real story, not the one society has been told?’ Kael asked, his voice quiet. She might not have loved Haymore, but his desertion had marked her. ‘The best way to move past something is to tell someone,’ he said when she remained silent. ‘Whatever it is, it will be safe with me. I don’t tell secrets.’

  Zara sighed, her face turning upwards again to the sky peeping through the leafy boughs of the trees. ‘It’s not even that big a secret. He cried off because he loved another.’ She huffed out a breath. ‘There’s nothing wrong with that. He came to the house and asked to speak with me. He told me he wanted to be honest. He couldn’t marry me because he wanted to marry someone else, a Miss Elise Brighten, who lived near his family’s home in the country. They’d grown up together and their feelings had turned from friendship into something more. He said it wouldn’t be fair to marry me under the circumstances.’

  ‘He was right,’ Kael put in quietly. ‘Why would you want a man who wanted another? Who viewed you as nothing more than a duty?’

  ‘That’s what I tell myself. I should be grateful Haymore was so thoughtful. He saved us from a life of misery.’ Zara shook her head. ‘But it’s not completely fair.’

  ‘How so?’ Kael played with her wet hair, combing a strand with his fingers.

  ‘He loved her. He didn’t love me. Why couldn’t he love me?’ Her voice rose, a little shrill before she brought it under control. ‘I’m pretty, I’m rich and well connected. I’m everything he was supposed to want in a wife. I’d been raised for him, like a prized cow.’ The hurt was starting to show, maybe for the first time.

  ‘You are not a cow,’ Kael soothed. Haymore was an absolute fool not to love her with her passion for living, for swimming naked in the summer, for slinging mud patties and jumping off rope swings. There was so much more to her than a pretty face. ‘Do you know the expression “love is blind”? Have you thought about what it means? It means love doesn’t care about those things, about money or titles or looks. Love chooses indiscriminately. We can’t help it.’ It wasn’t necessarily an answer to her question. It was quite beyond him why Haymore didn’t love her. He pressed a kiss to her cheek. ‘If I was Haymore, I’d love you.’

  She shook her head, not quite believing him. ‘It’s easy for you to say, you’ve never been thrown over.’

  Kael stilled. ‘Who says I haven’t been jilted?’

  ‘Why would anyone not want you? You’re handsome and amusing and, well, you know. You have a way about you that makes a girl crave your company.’ She was blushing, her teeth catching her bottom lip.

  ‘Crave my company, eh?’ He flashed her a brief smile. He’d never told anyone about that one romantic disaster. That rejection had been personal, it had stung. Just as Zara’s had and perhaps it would ease her pain if she understood she wasn’t alone. His smiled faded. ‘You will be surprised to know, then, that I was jilted once too. Let’s say you’re right and I am handsome and have a way with women, and what else was I? Amusing? Let’s say I am all those things. Now let me tell you, they weren’t enough, not for the girl I loved. She needed more. She needed money, and a title and fine gowns, none of which I can offer a wife.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Zara’s brow creased in sincere regret. ‘I didn’t mean to joke earlier.’ Her hand moved idly on his chest. She tossed her dark hair back and looked at him with her head cocked, a smile starting on her lips. ‘It would be enough for me, Kael. I don’t need a man with a title, with a lot of money. A handsome, amusing man would be quite enough, a dream actually.’

  Kael smiled. ‘It’s nice of you to say so.’ It was kind of her to offer the words, but she couldn’t possibly mean them or understand them. She’d been raised to privilege and whether she thought she had them or not, Zara had expectations. She’d never had to do without things. In the long run, she’d tire of having to help Cook with the meals or seeing to some of the housework. And she’d tire of him, the man who had brought her so low. But his heart was safe this time, as it was every time he took a high-born woman to bed, because now he understood what he had to offer and what a woman really wanted. They were not the same thing.

  He moved over her then, kissing her nose, her jaw, her mouth, her breasts, the trail going lower, his tongue tasting the river water on her skin. He blew against her navel and her body arched ever so slightly in appreciation. His hands framed her hips and he put his mouth on her mons, blowing softly into her damp curls, a soft sound of satisfaction escaping her as she breathed his name.

  * * *

  ‘Kael.’ Had any piece of wickedness felt as good as his mouth against her? Somewhere in her mind, she knew she ought to be appalled, a man’s mouth on her most private area. But there was no shame in this. This was heaven indeed, to feel the summer breeze drift over her, warm and soft and to feel the echo of it in her lover’s breath.

  ‘Open for me, Zara,’ he whispered and she did, feeling the caress of his tongue on her, in her, as it slid over the tiny, hidden nub. She did moan then, it was not a sound that resembled soft satisfaction now, but pleasure. That pleasure mounted with each touch, each stroke. How had she not known such a feeling was possible, that her body was capable of this? She felt worldly and innocent all at once. She was greedy for more. Her hips rose to meet him, encouraging his efforts and he gave them until the intensity overwhelmed her and all she could do was cry her release to the summer sky.

  It didn’t take Zara long to realise the problem with pleasure was that it was addictive. Once had, one would always want more. She lay against Kael’s chest, her head lodged at the notch of his shoulder as if it was made for that place. Her hand played idly on his chest. ‘Is it like that every time?’ She was drowsy—too sleepy to worry about being proper or modest.

  ‘Technically, it can be. Every woman has a pleasure centre.’ K
ael sounded drowsy too.

  She laughed. ‘But not every man is skilled in waking it?’ She sighed against him. ‘I never knew it had a purpose. Hmm. I wonder why no one ever tells you such a thing. It’s far too fabulous to be kept a secret.’

  ‘Perhaps the fabulousness is the reason no one tells you.’ Kael’s voice was full of humorous exaggeration. ‘Can you imagine what parties would turn into if debutantes knew? Every alcove would be filled. It would be a scandal.’

  A thought came to her. ‘Do you have an equivalent?’ It would be sad to think such pleasure was only available to females.

  Kael’s eyes challenged her. ‘You can stroke me into release.’

  ‘I can?’ Zara smiled, her hand slipping between them. It closed over the length of him, hot and pulsing beneath her touch. She watched his eyes catch fire and she began to move, her hand running the length of him slowly at first, deliberately, feeling each inch of him; the long ridge, the tender tip. His body tensed and her stroke quickened as he arched.

  ‘Zara, you’re going to kill me!’ The words came out through gritted teeth as he bucked. She felt his body tighten and gather itself, watched him give a violent jerk in her hand, becoming a living fountain in her grip.

  ‘Oh, my...’ she breathed, cognisant that she’d witnessed something beautiful and powerful. It was by far the most intimate experience she’d ever had, rivalling even what Kael had done to her. ‘That was amazing.’ It occurred to her that perhaps it was amazing because holding a man during his crisis was indeed extraordinarily intimate, but maybe it was amazing too because of what they’d shared.

  ‘It certainly was.’ He chuckled and found the strength to sit up, but despite his joke, his eyes were solemn. It had moved him too, maybe even frightened him, something she would not have believed possible, but that was before she’d heard his story. He’d loved once, given his all once to a woman and been found lacking. It threw what she knew of him into sharp relief. He was a rogue out of necessity, out of the need to protect himself. It was far easier to seek affairs with those who would not demand his emotional availability only to trample on it later. They were far less risky too.

  She understood, in her own way. Haymore was like that: safe, not risky. Haymore had been comfortable, not asking too much from her. He had not challenged her emotions. When he’d left her, he’d left her exposed. The loss of Haymore had forced her to challenge her assumptions and to embrace new ideas, even if they were bound not to be popular. Her life was on the line. ‘We’re alike, you and I,’ Zara murmured the thought as it came to her.

  ‘Hmmm? How’s that?’ Kael sounded dreamy, content.

  ‘We’re more vulnerable than people realise, all they see is the strong outer shell. They don’t see what matters, what lies beneath the clothes, the façade of confidence.’ She sighed. ‘Not even my parents see it.’

  Kael played with her hair, a soft soothing gesture as they exchanged secrets in the late afternoon. ‘You’ll have to tell them then, before it’s too late.’ She shook her head against his shoulder.

  ‘They’d have a fit, especially my mother. She’d probably fall over on the spot.’ Zara gave a wry, short laugh. She couldn’t imagine doing it, but she’d have to if she ever meant to be truly free. Freedom was hard. She hadn’t realised how hard until she’d embarked on this course. It made the man beside her all the more impressive. He’d eschewed convention and survived it. She could too.

  They lingered by the swimming hole for a while longer, lying in each other’s arms in silence, letting the breeze blow over them, letting their bodies dry, letting their minds forget they had to go back. ‘I could stay here for ever,’ she murmured, snuggling against him. ‘I would never have to dress for dinner again, never have to impress a room, never have to be the most beautiful girl at a party.’

  ‘Don’t you like those things?’ Kael asked, raising his head to look at her.

  ‘My mother likes those things,’ Zara clarified. ‘Do you know what I want? I’ve not told anyone. I want to live in the country and ride astride, in trousers. The other girls in London would laugh if they knew.’

  ‘Then they’re not real friends,’ Kael consoled.

  Zara gave a laugh. ‘I never thought they were. A girl like me doesn’t have friends, she has rivals.’ She paused, thoughtful. ‘How do you do it, Kael? How do you let go of all of this and follow your own path?’

  He was slow to answer. For a moment, she thought he wouldn’t. ‘Zara, you took a great risk in coming here today,’ he began. ‘Was it worth it?’

  She rolled to her side and levered up on an arm to look at him, wanting him to see her when she spoke. ‘Yes. I would do it again.’ It had been worth it, not just the physical exploration of a man’s body, but the exploration of a man’s soul. Not just any man’s soul, but his. The soul of Kael Gage.

  He smiled, his dark eyes soft and thoughtful when they looked at her. ‘Then remember how you feel right now, remember how you felt today, whenever it seems easier to give up your dreams than to fight for them.’ He covered her hand with his. ‘Zara, this is what freedom feels like and it is worth the price.’

  Zara nodded, emotion threatening to choke her words. No one had ever spoken to her like that. There were depths to this man and they intrigued her even beyond the physical pleasure he could offer. She could lie here for hours, listening to him talk about life, about what mattered. Whatever else happened, Kael had given her a great gift today; he’d shown her a piece of himself and in doing so he’d shown her part of herself as well. Most of all, he’d shown her she was not alone.

  Chapter Seven

  A summons to the duke’s study was waiting for him in his room when Kael got back. The promptness of it struck him as a little eerie. The summons was already on his pillow and his hair wasn’t even dry yet. It made him wonder how many eyes the duke had on his property. It also made him wonder just how much the duke knew.

  Kael made his way to the study, following the map that had been left in all the bedchambers so guests would feel at home. He mentally selected and discarded opening lines. How did he want to start this conversation, since he wasn’t sure if this summons was about the swimming hole or if it was simply the duke calling in his marker for allowing him to be here? Kael decided on flattery. Flattery never hurt and it almost always helped.

  The duke’s private study was set at the back of the house and commanded an outstanding view of the wide south lawn and the lake beyond it. Kael noticed this because the duchess was sitting in front of the windows and her presence had drawn his immediate attention. He had not expected her to be here. He went to her straight away and bowed over her hand. ‘I must thank you again for your hospitality.’ He took the opportunity to flirt with his eyes. Even lovely women of a certain age appreciated a man’s attention and the Duchess of Brockmore was definitely that.

  ‘You’re very welcome. We have plenty of room.’ The duchess politely acknowledged his flirtatious efforts, but nothing more. There would be no help from that quarter.

  The duke rose from his seat behind the imposing mahogany desk and came around the front to casually lean a hip against it. He gestured to a chair and urged Kael to take a seat. ‘We’re glad you are enjoying yourself. However, it is your first time with us and we wanted to make sure you were aware of certain nuances that make this party unique.’ The duke smiled kindly, but Kael wasn’t fooled. The duke might fancy himself the fatherly sort, but no one else did. ‘Everyone here is intended for someone else here.’

  The duchess took over smoothly. ‘We merely provide a neutral place for these couples to meet and to enjoy activities together in order to decide if they do indeed suit one another.’ That was an understatement. Kael thought her description better fit a zoo where one had a chance to see the species in their natural habitat.

  The duke cleared his throat. ‘As her Grace has said, every
one is intended for someone. That includes Miss Zara Titus.’ Now they were getting to the real issue. His blue eyes held Kael’s, less fatherly than before. ‘It has come to my attention that you have been spending considerable amounts of time with our Miss Titus.’ That made it pretty clear whose protection she was under.

  Kael crossed a leg over his knee and leaned back in his chair, waiting. ‘Yes, I have. She’s a delightful, beautiful woman who captivates any number of men.’ He shifted in his seat. His body still throbbed with the reminder of how she’d ‘captivated’ him this afternoon.

  ‘That may be.’ The duke gave him a polite smile. ‘But she is intended for one man and that is Lord Markham.’ His words were loaded with steel.

  The duchess broke in. ‘Mr Gage, it’s just that young girls are very impressionable, easily confused. Her mother was most aggrieved. You need to know that Miss Titus is extremely vulnerable right now.’ Kael fought back a snort. Zara? Vulnerable? Hardly. If they’d seen her at the swimming hole, vulnerable wouldn’t be a word that came to mind. On the other hand, it was probably best they hadn’t.

  ‘What if she doesn’t prefer Markham?’ Kael asked, his challenge surprising Brockmore. The man was not used to having his decisions gainsaid.

  Brockmore offered him a tight smile of patience. ‘As men of experience, it is our job to make sure she does. Markham is an excellent choice and, in years to come, she’ll be thankful the choice was made.’

  Some women might. Not Zara. He’d only known her two days and he knew that much was true. Kael kept his tone cool. ‘What about Jeremy Giltner? Is she to be given no choice at all?’

  ‘Giltner is better suited to Catherine Downing, Markham’s sister,’ the duke explained. ‘He aspires to be an MP and there’s a seat open in Markham’s borough. Who better to take it than the marquis’s own brother-in-law?’ The duke smiled, clearly pleased with the arrangement. Why wouldn’t he be? Kael could see the advantages. The match would give the duke another seat in Parliament to influence and a marquis in his debt. ‘Giltner is over the moon about it. When they return to London, their match will be touted as the romance of the Season, a whirlwind affair.’ The duke winked. ‘Constituents love a good romance. This will endear the already charming Mr Giltner to the people all the more. Who knows, maybe some day he might make higher office.’ It was a cautionary tale and a bribe all at once. The duke had the power to force one’s hand. Kael felt a primal urge to protect rise, not for himself but for Zara. He didn’t want Zara forced.