Bargaining With a Rake (A Whisper of Scandal Novel)

by Johnstone, Julie

  “How the bloody hell did you know about something that happened while you were gone? Especially since I can count on one hand those privy to that information.”

  Gillian was all ears for what either of them might let slip next. Trent appeared to be holding his own full bag of secrets, and Alex had failed to mention he had multiple reasons for wishing revenge against Lord Westonburt. She studied the angry set of Alex’s jaw and his narrowed eyes. What else had he forgotten to tell her? Typical English know-it-all bull of a man.

  “What have you been up to in Paris, Trent?”

  “Let’s all keep our little secrets, shall we?”

  “That sounds perfect to me,” she snapped. “Don’t you dare say a word to Father or anyone else, and I won’t question you, or better yet, I won’t whisper in Auntie’s ear that she should be questioning you.”

  “Deal.” He stuck his hand out and for the second time today, she sealed a bargain with a man. “Now, where can I find Mr. Sutherland?”

  Trent smirked at her. “No doubt with your sister.”

  “Why are you smirking at me?”

  “While you were idling your time away here with Lionhurst, the man you’ve set your sights on has set his sights on your sister.”

  “What?” She could not have heard correctly.

  “Yes, indeed. I’d say Mr. Sutherland is fairly bewitched by Whitney. Of course, who wouldn’t admire a girl who cleared the jump over the fence with the grace that Whitney exhibited and then plucked off her jacket and stockings to wade in a stream, showing her ankles to the drooling men blessed with her company?”

  What in the world was Whit up to? Gillian whirled away and ran toward her horse. She yanked the rope away from the tree.

  “Where are you going?” Trent called merrily behind her.

  She swung up into the saddle, not bothering to respond. She didn’t know whether to be worried or grateful. Was Whitney trying to help Gillian’s plan or hinder it?

  Gillian’s horse had galloped halfway across the stream by the time Alex caught up with them. He yanked Braun’s reins to the left and brought his stallion up next to Gillian’s horse. Reaching over, he snatched the reins out of her hands with his left one and gently urged her horse to a stop.

  Her thunderous face did not surprise him in the least.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  “Saving your arse, my lady. You’ll look the fool if you go charging in there and demanding your sister keep her hands off your future husband. You’re already betrothed, if you care to pause and remember.”

  “Oh, I remember,” she mumbled darkly. “It’s not possible to forget. And you needn’t worry that I would have made a fool of myself. It’s not as if I planned to charge in screeching.”

  “What is your plan?”

  “I was working on that.”

  “Then let me be of service.”

  A smirk quirked her lips and her gaze wandered to his mouth before darting away. “I think I’ve had enough of your personal services.”

  “I’m sorry. I was definitely out of line. I swear it won’t happen again.”

  “I’ve heard that from you before.”

  He laughed. “You’re absolutely right. But I swear it won’t happen again.” It couldn’t. It wasn’t his place to want her or soothe her. She incited his lust, but he could control himself. Regulating his emotions was his life.

  “Trent.” She waved a hand at her cousin.

  “Remarkable timing as always, Sin,” Alex said.

  “Have you two worked everything out?”

  Gillian shot Alex a narrow-eyed look. “We were just discussing Whit and what she might be up to with Mr. Sutherland. What do you think?”

  “Whitney probably doesn’t want you to leave England. Maybe she thinks she can sabotage your plan.”

  “She knows I’m planning on taking her with me.”

  “Maybe she doesn’t want to go. Perhaps she has concluded there is a better man to help you get out of your unwanted engagement.” Sin leveled Alex with a fierce frown.

  “Quit glowering at me,” Alex snapped. “I offered to provide Gillian enough money that she need not marry any man and could move to America and live exactly as she pleased.”

  “Did you?” Surprise resonated in Sin’s voice; then his face darkened. “Why the hell would you do that? You don’t even know my cousin. Have you―”

  “I have not,” Alex interrupted. He knew exactly what Sin was going to ask. “Gillian is still perfectly innocent.” Except for a few kisses. “I already told you I tried to seduce her. The money I offered was in hopes of enticing her to agree to my plan.”

  “What the hell is going on here?” Sin roared.

  Alex explained quickly. And when he was finished Sin stared at him with his mouth hanging open. “By God, you should put a bullet through Westonburt’s heart.”

  “I want to,” Alex said, feeling that dark hole opening up in his chest, “but I’m no murderer.”

  “Morality is tiresome.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.”

  Sin moved to stand directly in front of Gillian. “Is it so bad here that fleeing to America seems the only option?”

  “It’s worse than bad,” she replied, her voice quavering.

  Something inside Alex’s chest tugged. He shifted uncomfortably.

  “Let me talk to Uncle.” Sin said.

  “No!” She gasped. “Don’t you dare. It won’t do any good. He’d simply have me married off within a week by special license. Promise me.”

  The vehemence in her voice and the stark whiteness of her skin surprised Alex. It was as if she feared Westonburt or her father. If she did, she no doubt had good reason.

  “No one will say a word,” he said, hoping to soothe her.

  “Did Westonburt harm you?” Sin demanded. “I’ll kill him today if he did. I don’t give a damn about my mortal soul. It’s already tarnished beyond salvation.”

  Alex surveyed his friend’s unblinking eyes and tense face. “Later, we need to talk about Paris.”

  “Much later,” Sin snapped, not even sparing Alex a glance. “Did Westonburt harm you, Gillie?”

  She shook her head. “No. But I’ve heard rumors of things he’s done to other women.” A shudder ran through her body and her gaze darted to Alex. “More women than just your sister.”

  Alex nodded. He suspected she was speaking of the serving wench. The black hole in his heart opened wide. He wanted to kill Westonburt.

  “Surely, if you tell Uncle―”

  “No.” Gillian interrupted Sin. “I won’t live here the rest of my life. I can’t. I…I can’t stand it. I’m done discussing this.”

  Alex had seen enough of the woman to know simple rumors would not drive her away, but who was he to question her? “She’s right,” he said. “If we don’t move soon, the hunting party will notice us missing. This is what I propose you should do, Gillian. Jump the fence, fumble a fake fall and let Sutherland race to your rescue. He loves to be the hero. Once you are comfortably ensconced in his arms, turn on all the feminine charm you possess. I’ve experienced a bit, so he should be yours in no time.”

  Hell, had he really just said that? Alex took in the two openmouthed stares. Yes, he’d said exactly what was in his thoughts. What a damned stupid thing to do.

  “Um, er, thank you, Alex,” Gillian stuttered, blushing furiously.

  “I always compliment where it’s deserved. Now, then,” he said, working to turn the conversation away from his idiocy, “in case you don’t capture Sutherland this week send your social calendar to Sally, and I’ll make sure Sutherland is everywhere you are.”

  “Oh, that’s good,” Gillian said. “But what if I need you this week and beyond for interference and what not?”

  “I hadn’t thought of that.” Alex scrubbed his hand over his face. He didn’t care to stick around and watch the seduction of this woman by his partner, or would it be the other way around? It didn’t matter who seduce
d whom; he’d rather not be a witness. Yet he needed to be here to ensure all went as planned. “I’ll be wherever Sutherland is, don’t worry.” What the hell was he getting himself into?

  “Perfect.” Gillian offered a slight smile.

  “Get going.” He slapped the hindquarter of Gillian’s horse. “We’ll be right behind you, putting on a big show to make everyone think the race is still on between us.”

  Gillian nodded and sped off in the direction of the fence. Alex moved to go, but Sin gripped his arm.

  “Do you think she’s hiding something?”

  “Hell yes,” Alex replied, grasping Braun’s reins. “What do you plan to do?”

  Sin gave Alex a strange look. “Absolutely nothing. I’ve a feeling it will all work out.”

  “You’re just going to let her go? Run off to America?”

  “Why do you care?”

  The question slammed him in the chest. His brother had asked him the exact same thing the day Robert had shot himself. Alex ground his teeth. He knew better than to meddle in anyone’s life. “I don’t care,” Alex finally replied, tapping Braun’s reins to gallop away.

  Gillian goaded Lightning into a faster speed as she squinted against the sun to judge the height of the fence. It certainly wouldn’t hurt to be a little showy. The earth trembled under the pounding of Lightning’s hooves, bringing the fence closer by the second. Was it four feet or five?

  They would sail over it with no problem. Together they had hurdled heights of six feet before. The faces of the hunting party sharpened as she drew nearer. She leaned forward in preparation to soar, counting the paces. The mechanics of what she needed to do ran through her mind—tighten the legs, brace the body, jump and land. But then what should she do?

  She must fake a fall to bring Mr. Sutherland to heel. She could alight and pull the reins taut. Without the beast having the proper amount of time to slow his momentum, he would fight against the control and most probably jerk her around a bit. This would present the perfect opportunity to slide off her horse. She would lean to the left, away from the group and toward that nice patch of hay calling her name.

  The thought of purposely fumbling a perfect leap left a sour taste in her mouth. Hooves approached behind her, their building tempo letting her know that Alex closed the distance between them. So he planned a good show, did he? She grinned and tapped Lightning. “Give me everything, old boy.”

  The beast responded with dizzying quickness. The forest flew by in a green blur on either side of her and exaltation poured through her veins. She loved the speed, the freedom and the thrill of the unknown.

  In a flash, Alex whizzed by her on his black beast. Her heartbeat exploded, and her gasp filled the air. He had not said a word about besting her. The devil. The man was really not to be trusted.

  He was reckless. He landed in one fluid motion on the other side of the fence and swung the steed around to face her, a gleaming smile lighting Alex’s face. Greek tales of Bellerophon and Pegasus that her mother had once told her filled Gillian’s head. She could well imagine Alex as the descendant of the great Greek hero who rode the flying horse.

  She had to clear her thoughts. There was no more time for fanciful musings. One deep breath and every muscle tensed as she signaled to Lightning, and they vaulted up over the fence, through the hissing air and down toward the ground rushing at her. They landed in an explosion of speed and jarring movement, which sent waves of numbness ricocheting through her body and clanked her teeth together with a force that left her wincing. That was not her smoothest landing.

  Her reflexes took over and she wrenched the reins upward instead of using the tight, controlled pull she had intended. Lightning reacted violently to his speed being abruptly ended. He reared back and up, hooves kicking in the air. Time ticked to a stop, save the twisted faces matched in their horror at the doom displayed before them. Her head roared, and her pulse soared. Too late to correct her mistake and soothe her steed. His hooves sang through the air, met the ground and paused long enough to bend his neck and send her flying forward.

  She landed without any grace whatsoever but with a bit of luck. Instead of meeting her death against a tree or sharp rock, she alighted in the semisoft hay she’d meant to aim for. Of course, she had not intended to land with her feet in the air and her split skirt bunched up at the top of her legs, but at least she was not dead. She would have moved and set herself to a respectable position if she could have even wiggled a pinkie. As it was, the act of breathing hurt her chest. Her state of dishabille would have to be dealt with in a moment.

  Perhaps Mr. Sutherland would find her legs pleasing and marry her on the spot for her lovely calves. She started to chuckle, but abruptly stopped to spit out some stray hay stuck in her mouth. Noise erupted around her, and she brushed the locks of hair hanging in her eyes away so she could see if her plan was working.

  First a black boot appeared, followed by a rather muscular leg clad in tight tan riding britches, which dropped into a kneeling position beside her. If these were the consequences of botching her jump then she could live with them. She inspected the powerful muscles swelling underneath Mr. Sutherland’s riding breeches. Her future husband had nice legs.

  Fingers grabbed at her skirt and pulled it down toward her ankles, and she could not help but hope Mr. Sutherland liked her legs as much as she liked his. A heavy, warm arm lay over her ankles and pushed down as a hand grasped her under her arm and pulled her up into a sitting position. Alex’s amused blue gaze met hers.

  “That was quite a show,” he whispered.

  She grinned, happy to see him even though he was the wrong man. “You did say put on a ‘big show.’”

  “Not one that would make my heart stop.”

  Gillian gaped at the intensity of his statement. Recovering herself, she smiled cheekily. “I didn’t know you truly cared,” she teased.

  He brushed a finger down her cheek. “It surprised me as well.”

  Before she could respond to his statement or his tender touch, Whitney and Sutherland walked up. They knelt on the ground beside Gillian. With a frown, Whitney pressed cool fingers to Gillian’s cheek. “Are you all right?”

  “I’ll recover.”

  “I wish I could say the same,” Whitney snapped, abruptly changing her demeanor. “You just aged me five years. I’ve never seen you take a tumble or miss a jump.”

  “And I’ve never seen you clear any jump,” Gillian snapped back, slapping her palms against the dirt and pushing into a standing position. Her head swam with the rush of blood through her body, and she rocked backward with dizziness. She reached out blindly and gratefully grasped the arm offered to her. “Thank you.” She turned and expected to see Alex’s familiar face. Instead, Mr. Sutherland smiled at her.

  “My pleasure, doll. Nothing a man likes better than rescuing a damsel in distress.”

  Gillian met Alex’s eyes, understanding passing between them. He tilted his head, a small smile curling the corners of his mouth up, and then he turned the full force of his gaze onto Whitney. Gillian clenched her teeth against the unfounded jealousy streaking through her.

  Alex tucked Whitney’s hand into his arm, and she leaned toward him as he led her away. They appeared as two lovers sharing a secret. Gillian fought the urge to jump up, run to them and place herself in the middle of their pretty little picture. What on earth was the matter with her? Mr. Sutherland was beside her, ripe for seduction, and she stared at Alex as if he was the forbidden apple in the Garden of Eden.

  She snapped her gaze to Mr. Sutherland and was surprised to find Trent looming over her. Where the devil had he come from?

  He clapped a hand on Mr. Sutherland’s shoulder. “Do you mind giving Gillian a ride back to the house? I don’t want her back on her own horse after that fall. Mother and the staff are there and can take her off your hands.”

  Gillian stared in awe at Trent. Her cousin was a brilliant liar. Apparently, whatever else he had done in Paris, he had also ma
stered the art of subterfuge. He had not blinked an eye or missed a breath as he wove his tale. She really needed to learn his tricks for any upcoming confrontations with her father. Not becoming tongue-tied and flushed would come in quite handy if she needed to have a secret rendezvous with Mr. Sutherland.

  “My horse is over there,” Mr. Sutherland said, taking her hand in his. His hand was nice, though not nearly as large as Alex’s. Mr. Sutherland had long, thin fingers, whereas Alex’s fingers were long and—curse her wandering mind and the devil who invaded her thoughts. Why were unwanted images of Alex causing havoc in her head?

  Mr. Sutherland raised her hand to his lips, brushing a light kiss over her knuckles. She waited for an explosion of emotion, an awareness in her gut or a tingling anywhere.

  “I’m not used to all the rules and regulations that dictate your Society. I hope I’ve not offended you by holding your hand.”

  “It would take a good deal more than you taking the liberty of holding my hand to offend me, Mr. Sutherland.” She batted her eyelashes at him, determined to regain her focus.

  “Call me Drake. All my intimate acquaintances use my Christian name.”

  She nodded as he leaned toward his horse and helped her to mount. He settled behind her, and she rested against his chest. Leaning into her ear, he whispered, “Is this proper?”

  “Not in the least,” she replied, catching Alex staring at her from across the way. His gaze probed, questioned, and as Drake’s hand slid around her waist, she was sure Alex’s eyes narrowed with a dangerous glint. Was he jealous? A thrill pounded through her at the thought.

  Curse him! She raised trembling fingertips to her lips, lips Alex had kissed into a tender, swollen state earlier. Confusion muddled her mind as Drake set his horse to a trot. She was going to ruin everything if she could not keep her mind on Mr. Sutherland.

  Road to the Kingsley Estates

  Yorkshire, England

  Even with the breeze created by the speed of Abigor’s gallop, the midday sun glared down on Harrison’s head. His good mood threatened to evaporate. He hated being hot almost as much as he hated his mother. He kicked Abigor in the hindquarters, and the steed snorted in return but quickened his pace. His beast knew better than to cross him or risk the whip, and after last night, Harrison’s mother knew better too.