Scandalous Deception

by Rosemary Rogers

  “Tell me why you are here, Brianna,” he whispered as his lips brushed the hollow beneath her ear.

  She gave a soft shriek as her body jerked in reaction to the gentle caress.

  “Edmond, halt this at once,” she whispered, her hands clenched in the folds of his cloak.

  Closing his eyes to better savor her exquisite taste, Edmond trailed his lips down the line of her jaw.

  “Tell me.”

  “No.”

  He nipped her chin, his hands traveling along the narrow line of her waist and then slowly back up, inching ever nearer the delectable curve of her breasts.

  “Brianna, I will not halt until I have the truth.”

  The green eyes flashed with fury and a darkening awareness she could not entirely hide.

  “I came here to speak with Stefan.”

  He stole a brief, possessive kiss, before reluctantly pulling back to regard her with a narrowed gaze.

  “Concerning what?”

  “Stefan is my guardian. I need him to assert his rights and take me from the home of Mr. Wade.”

  “Your stepfather?” Edmond had never met the man who had married Brianna’s mother, Sylvia. He knew little more than that the man was the son of a common butcher who had managed to make a fortune in the West Indies, a social-climbing mushroom who was well beneath the notice of most of the ton. Sylvia had been desperate, he’d supposed, to find the means of paying her gambling debts, and would no doubt have married Beelzebub himself if he’d offered. “Why?”

  “That is something I would prefer to discuss with Stefan.”

  “I did not ask what you prefer, ma souris,” he growled. “Answer the question.”

  “Thomas intends to take me to Norfolk on Friday.”

  Edmond made a sound of disgust. How typically foolish. Was there ever a woman born who did not allow herself to be ruled by flights of fancy rather than common sense?

  “And you risked utter ruin because you have no wish to leave London society?” He gave a shake of his head.

  Without warning her hands lifted to smack against his chest, her face flushed with fury.

  “I do not give a bloody hell about London society, you wretched man,” she gritted. “Indeed, if I never had to spend another night in this horrid city I would be delighted.”

  “Then why the devil are you so desperate to avoid Norfolk?”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, almost as if in pain. “Please, do not do this, Edmond,” she whispered.

  Edmond stilled, realizing that there was far more to this than a mere feminine whim.

  “Brianna?”

  A shudder wracked her body, before her thick lashes at last lifted to reveal haunted green eyes.

  “My stepfather intends to take me to his hunting lodge so he…he can…have his way with me.”

  “Have his way with you?”

  “He intends to rape me,” she hissed. “There, are you satisfied?”

  “Christ, Brianna,” he rasped, shocked to the very depths of his being. “What the hell makes you think such a thing?”

  “Because he attempted to force his way into my bed three months ago.” Her voice was wooden, but Edmond was not fooled by the lack of emotion. She was so on edge, he knew she was a breath away from shattering.

  “I warned him that I would contact Stefan and reveal the treachery if he so much as touched me. I thought the threat would be enough, but two weeks ago he informed me that he had purchased a new hunting lodge in Norfolk and that he intended to take me there. He also made it clear that any servants he hired would be completely loyal to him. So loyal that they would turn a blind eye if Thomas chose to keep me locked in my chambers.”

  With a hiss, Edmond surged off the bed, a fury trembling through his body. The rotten, sick bastard.

  “Why haven’t you contacted Stefan before now?” he snapped.

  Keeping her wary gaze on him, Brianna slipped off the bed and wrapped her arms around her waist; the bodice of her gown disarranged to reveal a far too tempting glimpse of her creamy breasts.

  “I sent a letter the moment that I learned of Thomas’s plan to leave London, but Stefan did not respond. After I learned that he had arrived in the city, I had hoped that he had come to assist me.” Her tone was accusing. She clearly held him to blame for Stefan’s absence. “Of course he never came to call, so I sent near a dozen messages to the town house. I even had my maid deliver a letter—only to be turned away by a huge brute of a man who would not so much as allow her across the threshold.”

  “I did not hire Boris for his talents in proper London etiquette,” he said dryly.

  Her eyes flashed, her beautiful hair tumbled about her shoulders. “Well, because of Boris, I was forced to attend this hideous ball in the hopes of speaking with Stefan. And now you have ruined even that.”

  Edmond was not a gentleman who was chastised by others. Not even Alexander Pavlovich would dare offer more than a mild reproof. And yet, this tiny scrap of a woman stood there and boldly dressed him down, as if he were no more than a disobedient child.

  Astonishingly, however, it was not resentment, but fascination that flowed through him.

  Brianna Quinn had the sort of spirit that was all too rare among well-bred females. For God’s sake, any other woman would have been mindless with fear, or at the very least hysterical, after being threatened with rape by her stepfather. Brianna instead had boldly set upon a course to save herself, even daring to attend the most notorious ball in all of London.

  “I will contact Stefan to ensure he knows of your troubles,” he promised, not bothering to inform her that he intended to deal with Thomas Wade in his own straightforward, if covert, fashion. “Until then you will stay with a friend. You must know someone in London.”

  Her lips thinned at his sharp command. “I know several people in London, but none are in a position to prevent Thomas from taking me away. Only Stefan…”

  Edmond frowned as her words came to an abrupt halt, her eyes narrowing as if she had been struck with a brilliant notion.

  “Only Stefan, what?” he demanded, impatient to return to the ball and Howard Summerville now that he had solved the mystery of Brianna Quinn.

  “Only Stefan can protect me.” Her chin tilted as a thin, determined smile curved those tempting lips. “And that is precisely what he is going to do.”

  “I am certain he will, once he discovers your…”

  “No, I cannot wait for Stefan to rush to the rescue. You are already here, after all, pretending to be Stefan. There is no reason I cannot move into the town house. Tonight.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  EDMOND’S FEATURES TIGHTENED, his admiration for Brianna’s courage being replaced by a dark, seething anger.

  Did the woman think he was sweet, tender-hearted Stefan who could be manipulated by every pathetic waif who crossed his path?

  Or did she believe his unmistakable lust for her delectable body gave her power over him?

  “I can only presume that is some sort of jest.” His voice was low and cutting as he stepped to loom over her in a threatening manner.

  Her breath rasped loudly in the still air, but she refused to back away.

  “Not in the least. All of London believes that the Duke of Huntley is currently residing in his town house. Why would he not invite his ward to come and stay with him?”

  “Not even a ward can stay alone in the home of a bachelor. You would be ruined.”

  “Not if you hire a companion,” she retorted stubbornly.

  He gave a sharp bark of laughter. “So now I am not only to have my privacy invaded by a pesky, unwanted ward, but also a middle-aged dragon?” he taunted. “You truly have lost your wits if you think I would consider such a ridiculous notion for even a moment.”

  She hissed in frustration. “You would rather allow me to be hauled off by my stepfather and raped?”

  Edmond ignored the tide of black contempt. Thomas Wade would soon be no more than a forgotten corpse. For now, Edmond
was much more concerned with this aggravating minx standing before him.

  “I assure you that the matter will be dealt with.”

  “Forgive me if I do not entirely trust such an ambiguous promise,” she retorted, her expression bitter.

  “It will have to do.”

  She remained silent for a brief moment, as if waging some inward struggle. Then, drawing in a deep breath, she met his glittering gaze squarely.

  “No, it will not have to do.” Her voice wavered before she gathered her nerve and continued. “You seem to forget that I have a means of compelling you to take me into the town house.”

  Edmond stilled, his predatory nature coiled and prepared to strike as he sensed danger. Reaching out, he grasped her shoulders, hauling her close enough that he was wrapped in warm lavender.

  “Take care, Brianna, I do not respond well to blackmail.”

  She swallowed heavily, but she was wise enough not to struggle against his biting grip.

  “You have left me no choice,” she gritted. “Either you agree to take me in as your ward, or I will return to the ballroom and inform one and all that you are not Stefan.”

  Edmond had been a powerful force in politics for the past eight years. He had intimidated, seduced, and at times deceived others into obeying his will.

  Now this little wisp of a girl thought to bully him?

  His fingers tightened. “You are a fool to threaten me, ma souris.”

  “Not a fool, only desperate. I will not remain another night under the roof of my stepfather.”

  With a jerk, he had her pressed against the door, his body leaning heavily into her slender form with an unmistakable warning.

  “You believe you are any safer under my roof?” His voice deepened as that growingly familiar heat flowed through his blood. Brianna Quinn might be a stubborn, unruly wench, but she stirred his passions to a fever pitch. To have her sleeping just a few doors away would bring a certain end to her innocence. “I am not the oh-so-honorable Stefan. I do not rescue damsels in distress without expecting some sort of reward.”

  She trembled, but not with fear. She might be a virgin, but she was vibrantly aware of the sizzling heat that pulsed between them.

  “You do not have to remind me that you have always been a cad and a scoundrel.”

  He arched a raven brow. “Well, then?”

  “I do not gain control of my inheritance until my birthday in the spring, but I do have several jewels…”

  His husky laugh filled the shadowed room. “I have no need for your money or jewels.”

  She frowned in confusion, revealing just how innocent she truly was. “Then what sort of reward do you demand?”

  Edmond deliberately allowed his heated gaze to run over her ivory features before lowering to rest on the slight swell of her breasts.

  “Obviously, you have nothing to barter but your feminine charms.”

  She attempted an expression of outrage, but Edmond did not miss the darkening of her magnificent eyes. She would never admit it, but she was not entirely averse to the thought of having those charms tasted. Perhaps even devoured.

  “You are no better than Thomas,” she accused in a shaky voice.

  Edmond smiled with cold intent, abruptly stepping back and tugging her from the door. He had wasted enough time. He was here to discover a murderer, not to seduce his brother’s ward. Stefan was far better suited to deal with such a mess.

  He still intended to kill Thomas Wade. That was a given. But tonight, his priority was Howard Summerville.

  “Then I suggest that you remain with your stepfather, where you belong, or find some other accommodations,” he informed her, releasing his hold so he could pull open the door.

  “Damn you,” she hissed.

  Edmond paused to cast a mocking glance over his shoulder. “You are too late, ma souris. I was damned years ago.”

  IT WAS JUST PAST THREE in the morning when Brianna and her maid slipped through the back gate of the Huntley town house and made their way to the kitchen door.

  Although only a few blocks away from her stepfather’s home, the two establishments could not be compared.

  The entire area had once belonged to Westminster Abbey and had been taken into possession by Henry VIII. Later it was developed by the Curzon family, who named the neighborhood Mayfair after the annual fair that had once been held in the open fields.

  Unlike many of the grand homes, Huntley House had been built by James Stuart, who preferred a plain exterior of pale stone and wrought-iron fencing to the more elaborate style of Robert Adam. The elegant interior, however, was a lavish display of wealth.

  As a child, Brianna could recall entering the home and marveling at the split staircase that led to a formal landing that boasted heavy marble pillars and Grecian statues. A perfect setting for the Duke and Duchess to greet their guests in a truly regal fashion.

  The jewel of the house, of course, was the neo-classical drawing room with its series of tall windows that extended the length of the house and overlooked Hyde Park. It was a room that had been near overwhelming for young Brianna, who had been terrified of destroying some priceless work of art.

  And now here she was, about to enter the house as a thief.

  More unnerved by the realization than she cared to admit, Brianna set down the heavy bags she had carried from her home, and watched as her maid bent over the door knob to study the lock in the faint moonlight.

  The two women were currently hidden in the shadowed alcove of the servants’ entrance, having slipped through the mews to the back of the grand town house. Behind them, the silence of the sunken rose garden offered the sense of being isolated from the hustle and bustle of London, but Brianna was no fool. Huntley House employed over a dozen servants, any one of which could make an untimely arrival.

  “Can you do it, Janet?” she whispered.

  Janet straightened, her round face somber. “Aye, it be a simple enough lock.”

  “Then what are you waiting for?”

  “Are ye certain this is a wise notion, Miss Quinn?” the maid demanded, her words abrupt. “The way ye speak of the gent makes me fear that ye are leaping from the frying pan right into the fire.”

  Brianna suppressed her instinctive shudder.

  When Edmond had abandoned her in that bedchamber at the masked ball, she had been momentarily paralyzed with fear, knowing she had no one left to turn to.

  It had seemed very much like she was doomed.

  And then, gathering her shattered courage, Brianna had squared her shoulders and made perhaps the most dangerous decision of her life.

  Edmond might not desire to help her, but it was no less than his duty. He was pretending to be Stefan, so he could bloody well take on Stefan’s responsibilities, including his obligation to save her from Thomas Wade.

  Her mind settled, Brianna had silently slipped back into her house and awakened Janet, who was sleeping in a chair beside Brianna’s empty bed. The maid had not been pleased with the daring notion, but grumbling beneath her breath, she had at last assisted Brianna in shoving what clothing she could fit in her valises.

  In less than an hour, Brianna and Janet had been sneaking through the dark streets, avoiding the traffic as the nobles returned home after their night of revelry. There had been a brief stop in the stables to ensure that Edmond had not yet returned before they slipped through the back gate and followed the flagstone path past elegant statues and lavish fountains to the mansion.

  If Edmond would not help her willingly, then he would do so unwillingly.

  “Edmond is no prize, but he is certainly preferable to Thomas Wade,” she muttered.

  “But if this man has promised to contact the Duke, then…”

  “I cannot take the risk of waiting,” Brianna interrupted. “If Thomas should even suspect that I am attempting to flee, he will have me hauled off to Norfolk before I could do a thing to stop him.”

  Janet heaved a heavy sigh. “I suppose that is true enough.�
��

  “I will sell my soul to the devil before I allow that to happen.”

  “Mayhap that is what yer about to do,” Janet muttered, removing a thin strip of metal from her pocket before efficiently setting about tripping the lock.

  The maid rarely spoke about her childhood, but Brianna knew Janet had been the child of one of London’s most notorious thieves. And that, until she had fled the underworld, she had learned many tricks of the trade. Such talents had come in handy more than once.

  There was a faint click and then the tumble of the locks before the door swung open. Brianna heaved out a deep breath of relief. She knew that Edmond would be returning at any moment, and she had to be firmly settled into the house before he arrived.

  Lifting her heavy baggage, Brianna brushed past her maid and entered the kitchen. If anyone was to be shot as a housebreaker, it was only fair that she take the bullet.

  Thankfully, there was no sound of gunfire as she stepped over the threshold and glanced about the long room.

  There was nothing more threatening than the bundles of herbs hanging from the open-beamed ceiling, a stack of gleaming copper pots and the flicker of dying embers from the massive stone fireplace.

  With a gesture toward Janet, Brianna silently crossed the stone floor, keeping her gaze trained on the distant door that led to the private servants’ quarters. She skirted the long wooden tables, her stomach rumbling at the scent of freshly baked bread and raspberry pastries that had been left to cool. It was tempting to linger a moment and indulge her sweet tooth with one of the delicate tarts, but with a stern effort, she continued onward, ducking through the arched doorway that led to the back staircase.

  If she did not find herself in the gutter in the morning, she could enjoy all the tarts she desired. For the moment, only sheer luck would allow them to reach the guest chambers before being caught.

  Darkness shrouded the narrow flight of steps, and Brianna cursed softly as she was forced to slow to a snail’s pace. Whatever her panicked sense of urgency, she would not risk breaking her neck by charging up the uneven wooden stairs.