How to Enjoy a Scandal

by Adrienne Basso

  “Do you resemble your siblings, my lord?” Dorothea asked.

  “Not my sister, but it has been noted that my brother and I bare a passing resemblance.”

  Gwendolyn frowned in consideration, a pertinent fact niggling at the back of her brain. A passing resemblance? That was not right. Her head jerked up. Now she remembered. The viscount’s brother was his twin and by all accounts the resemblance was nothing less than extraordinary.

  Something shifted in his eyes and Gwendolyn realized that he was aware that she knew about his twin brother.

  For some odd reason, it appeared to unsettle him. Curious. Gwendolyn schooled her features into a neutral expression, in an attempt to conceal her own feelings.

  “We are here, as you demanded, though I do not understand why,” Gwendolyn said.

  “I want an explanation for your sister’s most unusual behavior last night,” Lord Fairhurst demanded. “I own I am a man of varied experiences, yet you managed to give me quite a shock.”

  “I hardly know what to say,” Dorothea hedged.

  “Start at the beginning.”

  Dorothea cleared her throat; an obvious ploy to gain her more time. Gwendolyn glanced over at the viscount.

  He was looking straight ahead. Even in profile he was an extraordinarily good-looking man, with high cheek-bones and a strong jaw.

  “Honestly, my lord, there is no need for a lengthy explanation,” Gwendolyn proclaimed, after it became clear that Dorothea was not going to say anything. “The events of last night were as they appeared and the sooner they are forgotten, the better for all of us.”

  The viscount looked at her thoughtfully, as if he were turning her words over in his mind. Gwendolyn returned his gaze directly.

  “How did you know about Lady Fairhurst?” he asked.

  “Within an hour of my arrival at Moorehead Manor I was besieged by ever y unmarried female within a twenty-mile radius, all with one thing ver y much on their minds. Matrimony. I quickly surmised they were unaware of Lady Fairhurst’s existence, yet somehow you knew, Miss Ellingham.”

  “I did.” Gwendolyn stiffened. Clearly he knew more about them then he had led on, since he just used her surname. This fact merely enforced her first impression of the great need to remain cautious. Above all, she must be careful not to underestimate him. “I read a detailed description in the newspaper of a party held by the Duke of War wick that mentioned you and Lady Fairhurst as honored guests. Since I know that your mother is the Countess of Stafford, the only individual who could hold the title of Lady Fairhurst would be your wife.”

  “Which paper?”

  “The Times. Many of us in the area read it, but the delivery is hardly reliable. Our paper was over a month old, but it must have arrived before everyone else’s.”

  He expelled a long breath. “Hmm. Obviously you neglected to share the information with your sister?”

  Gwendolyn shrugged. “Quite frankly, I forgot. There hardly seemed a pressing need.” She did not add that she had been reading the paper before going to sleep last night and thus had not had the opportunity to tell Dorothea. If she had, this entire mess could have been avoided.

  Lord Fairhurst’s eyes narrowed momentarily, as if he was trying to decide if he believed her. What an arrogant man! Was he suddenly puzzled as to why he was not the center of everyone’s conversation? Did he really believe that he was the sun and the rest of them the planets which revolved around him?

  “You just said you were besieged by unmarried females soon after your arrival, so my ambitions for an advantageous marriage were hardly unique,” Dorothea interjected. “When I was at the manor yesterday afternoon, I realized that there was going to be a myriad of female competition, so I sought a way to gain your attention.”

  The viscount turned to stare at Dorothea. “I concede that you were not the only female with a pre-occupation toward matrimony, but certainly the most desperate.”

  His eyebrows rose fractionally. “Are you breeding? Is that why you felt it necessary to resort to wedlock by ambush?”

  Dorothea let out a gasp of pure indignity, but Gwendolyn managed to hold back her emotions. She was not overly surprised by the accusation. In all honesty, she could not even claim it was completely unwarranted.

  Anyone who was so bold as to slip into a stranger’s bed in the middle of the night must be prepared to accept the harsh comments that would follow.

  But she knew she could not afford to give Lord Fairhurst an inkling of her sympathy. She must never let him see anything but her outrage over his implications. Any chance of saving Dorothea’s reputation rested on somehow forcing the viscount to acknowledge her sister as a lady, an individual who ordinarily would never dream of doing anything so improper.

  “Dorothea’s actions were an uncharacteristic aberra-tion, an incident of momentary madness,” Gwendolyn declared.

  “Ahh, so the prospect of marrying me drives women to acts of insanity?” Lord Fairhurst looked at her, his expression mild and unperturbed. “I am uncertain if I should be flattered or appalled by that remark, Miss Ellingham.”

  Gwendolyn barely held back an exasperated hiss. The viscount was deliberately trying to be difficult and she quickly admitted there was very little she could do to change that attitude. Still, they had come here for a specific purpose and she at least had to try to get some assurance from him that he would say nothing about the incident.

  “We seek not to make excuses, my lord, but rather to assure ourselves of your discretion. I am sure you do not wish to be the object of gossip and speculation.”

  “I suspect that my reputation will weather the storm intact.” He stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankles. “However, this is the sort of gossip that could ruin a young girl’s prospects.”

  “Precisely,” Gwendolyn agreed. “Which is why we ask that you show some empathy and remain silent about the matter. There must have been at least one time in your life when you acted on impulse, without giving due consideration to all the consequences of your actions.”

  Lord Fairhurst remained perfectly still, but for just a second his eyes blinked. She had made her point, and apparently also struck a nerve. Perhaps the viscount was not as stuffy and straight-laced as he appeared. Gwendolyn remembered hearing rumors that he had been a rather impulsive young man.

  He lifted his head and looked into her eyes. For a moment their gazes locked and Gwendolyn wondered what he saw, what he was searching for when he regarded her. Wondered what in heaven’s name he wanted from them.

  “You speak from experience, Miss Ellingham. What, or rather who, precisely, ruined you?”

  Dear Lord. In the four years since the incident, Gwendolyn had never been spoken to about it so bluntly, so directly. Was it his lofty position or his innate personality that bred such superiority?

  Her fall from grace was something whispered about behind closed doors, something invisible, yet tangible, that hung in the air whenever she chanced to encounter people who refused to acknowledge her existence with even the slightest nod of the head.

  “Gwendolyn did nothing wrong. Nothing!” Dorothea said vehemently. “She has been treated abominably by these small-minded, petty women who are jealous of her wit and intelligence and beauty.”

  “You appear to be paying a high price for doing nothing wrong,” he replied dryly.

  “You don’t understand,” Dorothea cried.

  “Then pray, enlighten me.”

  Gwendolyn’s breath caught in her throat. They were not here to discuss her, but rather to avert a scandal with Dorothea. Yet somehow it seemed that no matter what the circumstances it always came back to Gwendolyn and her scandalous behavior. How had her life become so topsy-turvy?

  Gwendolyn closed her eyes, searching for a brief moment of peace. She lifted her lashes and only then became aware of her tightly clasped fingers resting in her lap. She slowly loosened her grip. Pain shot through her hands and fingers as the blood began flowing normally again. She sighed,
annoyed at her cowardice.

  “Four years ago I was traveling to Town with my great-aunt,” Gwendolyn began. “She had kindly offered to sponsor a modest debut into society, despite my advanced age.”

  “Our mother was her favorite niece and she wanted to do something in her memory,” Dorothea added.

  Lord Fairhurst looked startled. “I was unaware you lacked the guidance of a mother.”

  Dorothea shot him a mighty frown. “Our father is also dead.”

  “A recent loss?” the viscount inquired as he tapped his fingers thoughtfully against the scrolled, padded chair arm.

  “No. They have both been gone for many years,”

  Gwendolyn responded.

  “We are all alone in the world, my lord,” Dorothea said in a pitiful tone. “In addition to Gwendolyn and myself, there is our youngest sister, Emma, who depends on us completely. She is barely fifteen.”

  Gwendolyn turned toward Dorothea, inwardly groan-ing when she caught the calculating gleam in her sister’s eye. Dorothea had always excelled at playing the down-trodden, helpless maiden, yet Gwendolyn greatly feared that the viscount would not be among the many men who found this appealing. Especially under these circumstances.

  “You are orphans?” A soft, but unmistakable snort erupted from Lord Fairhurst. “My God this gets more melodramatic by the moment. Is there a wicked guardian threatening to force you into marriage with a lecherous old man three times your age? Will you claim that is the reason you took such desperate and drastic measures last night and crawled into my bed?”

  Dorothea gasped and her brows knit together in shock and indignation. Gwendolyn shared her sister’s annoyance and her control stretched thinner.

  “It pleases me to no end, discovering that you find our misfortunes so amusing, my lord.” Gwendolyn could not restrain the urge to glower. “I am therefore most sorry to inform you that our aunt and uncle are both kind and loving and, while we are hardly wealthy, we are comfortably situated.”

  A ghost of a smile flitted across his face. “My apologizes for any insult you might have taken from my comments. I assure you, none was given.”

  Gwendolyn searched his handsome face for a hint of self-reproach, for an ounce of sincerity and found none.

  She realized in that moment the futile nature of their mission. He had already formed his opinion of them, had set his mind to the course of action he would take regarding Dorothea’s behavior.

  “Come along, Dorothea, we are leaving.” Gwendolyn rose gracefully from the settee and straightened to her full height, which gave her bruised confidence a boost.

  Dorothea imitated her movements.

  The viscount’s eyes flashed annoyance. “We are not finished,” he stated.

  “Further discussion is pointless,” Gwendolyn replied.

  “My past is immaterial in this instance and I believe that you have already made up your mind as to whether or not you will expose my sister to scandal.”

  His gaze locked with hers. “Now you are a mind reader?”

  “No, my lord. I honestly do not know what you will do.

  I only know you have already decided and I doubt anything we say will sway your opinion. I can only hope that you will act as the gentleman you were raised to be and behave honorably. You were wronged by my sister, yet in the end no harmful consequence befell you. Any man with an ounce of compassion in his heart would take that into consideration before taking actions that would destroy a young girl’s future.”

  He regarded her smugly and the frustration of last night, and this morning, bubbled up inside her. Without meaning to, Gwendolyn found herself issuing a parting shot. “Unfortunately, your behavior today has cast grave doubts as to the true nature of your character, but we can always pray for a miracle.”

  Chapter Four

  It was an impressive exit line, worthy of a great actress and yet it would have sounded melodramatic if any other woman had spoken it. Though he did not want to, Jason could not help but recognize the honesty in her voice, the sincerity of her actions. Her cold stare enforced her words, while the rigid set of her shoulders emphasized her animosity, letting him know exactly what she thought of his opinions and character. Jason felt a twinge of regret. He had not intended to be so harsh, but honestly, how could he possibly trust a word these two women said to him?

  He almost wished he could explain to Gwendolyn that she had misunderstood him, but the most annoying part of the entire exchange was that she was right. He had mulled over the incident while shaving this morning, re-thought his position at breakfast and had firmly concluded that no good would come out of exposing the silly Dorothea to any sort of scandal. This meeting was indeed unnecessary.

  Initially, he had planned to tell the sisters of his decision within minutes of their arrival. There was no need for a lengthy conversation, no reason to listen to their half-baked explanations and apologies. But seeing Gwendolyn fully for the first time in the bright daytime light had distracted his thoughts.

  Though a connoisseur of all women, Jason had always preferred blondes. He found their delicate pale beauty, ethereal coloring and white skin an almost irresistible temptation. However, Gwendolyn Ellingham’s looks had him instantly re-thinking his taste in females. Her brilliant raven hair reminded him of the finest heavy silk, the intense color a striking contrast to her creamy white skin.

  The perfection of her figure was enhanced by the delicate beauty of her face. Wide dark eyes, thick black lashes, a pretty mouth with lush lips. It had been a long time since he had felt this degree of physical hunger for a woman and he was intrigued by his response.

  Even now, Jason wondered how he could find a woman in such a high pique so damn attractive. Instead of listening attentively to her words, he had found himself watching her luscious mouth and flashing eyes and feeling his own breath grow shallow.

  Experience had taught him it was never wise to let an angry woman storm away, yet Jason was relieved the sisters were leaving. He stood automatically once they had risen and turned to ring for a servant to escort them out.

  Not expecting Gwendolyn to cross in front of him, Jason rounded the corner of the sofa at a fast pace and nearly collided with her. She let out a faint, startled cry and took a stumbling step backward. Instinctively, he caught her, steadying her by grasping her shoulders with firm hands.

  She regained her balance, but his hands lingered.

  When he realized how much he was enjoying the sensation of touching her, Jason let go. Being a man possessed of both his common sense and sanity, he took several steps away, distancing himself as if she carried some fatal, contagious disease.

  “Forgive my clumsiness.” Her voice sounded breathless.

  “It was my fault.” Jason puffed out his cheeks in exasperation, then exhaled slowly. “It seems as though I can do nothing right today.”

  “It has been an unsettling day for all of us, my lord.”

  “Indeed.” His gaze drifted down to her breasts. “You were correct, Miss Ellingham. I have given this matter due consideration and I can assure you that the events of last evening shall remain a private matter, an incident known only to the three of us.”

  A tense silence followed. Gwendolyn’s eyes held a mis-trustful expression, but when she finally spoke, her voice was soft and filled with relief. “Thank you, my lord. I give you my word that you will not regret your decision.”

  He grinned a little lopsidedly and for the first time in his life, wished his experience with the female body was matched with an equal amount of experience with the female mind. What was she thinking?

  Were her thoughts as devilish and improper and dangerous as his own? Or had she unknowingly, without trying, set off sparks in him, igniting his sensuality?

  He stepped closer and color flooded her face. Jason smiled slightly. Good. He had not been imagining the attraction. That interested him far more than it should.

  “We bid you good day, my lord.” Gwendolyn’s voice turned to a high-pitched sq
ueak.

  He bowed politely and reached for her hand. Due to the heat of the day, she wore no gloves. Her fingers were elegantly tapered, the nails short and smoothly filed, the skin velvety. He lifted her hand to his lips, then glanced at her, silently challenging her to protest.

  An odd gasping, choking noise came from her throat.

  He worried that he had pushed her too far, too fast, had perhaps even frightened her and then realized that she was hardly in distress.

  She was laughing! And not a nervous, maidenly giggle either, but rather a full blown burst of amusement.

  “Miss Ellingham?” he questioned, with a quirk of his eyebrow.

  “Lord Fairhurst,” she remarked, pulling her hand back.

  “You are amazingly charming. And unfailingly predictable.”

  She sank into a graceful curtsy, then turned and left the room. Her sister made a hasty bob and followed Gwendolyn out.

  Jason stared at the door for a full minute before reacting. Frankly, he was speechless. He could not recall ever having a woman rebuke him in such a fashion. Females of all ages clamored for his attention, were honored if he cast a look their way. Masquerading as his twin, a peer with an aristocratic title, should have made him even more appealing.

  Of course his brother was married. That would certainly lessen his appeal with an unmarried woman, though Gwendolyn Ellingham did not precisely fit into the untouched, unmarried, must-act-with-honor category.

  She was, by her own admission, an outcast from polite society. The rules no longer applied in her situation.

  Even stranger, Gwendolyn’s lack of encouragement served mostly to whet his appetite further. Visions darted through his brain as he imagined bedding her. Jason wondered if he could convince her to engage in a brief affair during his visit. His body tightened. A man could get lost in those eyes, those luscious lips and curvaceous body and never care about finding his way back.

  Jason sighed. Clearly Gwendolyn’s tack was to ignore this attraction. And unless he remained in close proxim-ity to her, he would have no opportunity to change her mind.