Bargaining With a Rake (A Whisper of Scandal Novel)

by Johnstone, Julie

  “Well,” Auntie said. “You’re rather handsome. Maybe you’ll yet meet a woman who wants you.”

  “That’s unlikely,” he said. “Unfortunately, I have deficiencies in my character that appear to be irreparable”

  “Such as?”

  “Well for one, I’m not American.”

  Auntie pierced Gillian with an assessing look. “In my experience, the best laid plans usually somehow go astray and lead the planner down a far better path.”

  Her aunt was up to something, but Gillian wasn’t sure what. “We better go, Auntie. I’m sure I need to explain my whereabouts to Lord Westonburt.”

  She practically dragged her aunt away from Alex, and when he was out of distance to hear her, she hissed in her aunt’s ear. “Stop whatever it is you think you’re doing. Lord Lionhurst is not interested in marrying me.”

  “He is. He just hasn’t accepted it yet.”

  “Auntie!” Gillian blew out a frustrated breath. “Even if he was interested in marrying me, which he most certainly is not, I have to marry Mr. Sutherland and move to America.”

  “Whatever for? I just don’t understand your insistence on this course of action.”

  “I hate it here,” Gillian lied. “I will not live one more month under the ton’s whispers and scrutiny. I’ll perish if I don’t get away.” The stricken look on her aunt’s face was like a knife in Gillian’s heart.

  “I see, dearest. Well then, I suppose you are doing what you think you must.”

  “Yes. That’s right. So just let me do it.”

  “Fine.” Her aunt gave her a quick hug. “I promise I’ll do nothing to jeopardize your future.”

  “Thank you,” Gillian whispered and parted ways with her aunt once they got in the house.

  It was not until the next afternoon, when after a series of unbelievable events that left Gillian sitting alone by a stream in the woods with Alex, that she recalled her aunt’s promise and realized her aunt had never actually agreed not to interfere.

  “I think my aunt has decided we will suit,” Gillian said bluntly.

  Alex leaned back on his elbows and stretched his long legs out in the grass. She watched as he casually propped one boot on top of the other. His coat fell open, and with his shirt stretched tight across his chest, her fingers tingled in memory of the corded muscles she had felt under his shirt yesterday when they were riding his horse.

  He turned his head to look at her, amusement making crinkles at the corners of his eyes. “What makes you say that? Was it the fact that she insisted Sutherland had to be the one to take your sister back to the house?”

  She opened her mouth to respond, but he continued. “Or was it that she refused to let me accompany her back for her supposedly twisted ankle and insisted Westonburt accompany her, though you and I both know she does not care for the man? Or if it was neither of those things, maybe it was the fact that she insisted your cousins had to go straightaway to check on the tenants, even though your aunt was the one to plan this excursion of exercise into the woods. Which one of those things clued you in to your aunt’s plan to throw us together?”

  Gillian lay back in the grass and laughed. By God it felt good. When she was finished, her belly ached and her eyes were filled with tears of joy. She turned her head finally to answer Alex, and her breath caught in her throat. He had propped himself on one elbow and he faced her directly. Butterflies flooded her stomach. “I think perhaps it was the last―the rushing my cousins away despite their protest that they’d already visited the tenants―that was the deciding factor for me.”

  “Yes.” Alex reached out and plucked something out of her hair, his fingers gently touching her scalp. Instantly, her body tingled in awareness of his touch.

  “You’ve grass in your hair.” He picked out a few more blades, then smiled a devastating smile at her. More butterflies flooded her stomach until she found she was squirming.

  “Do you think anyone else noticed?” she asked, turning her head and looking up at the sky. White puffs of clouds dotted the blue expanse. She concentrated on the shapes to take her focus off the blue eyes in her head.

  “Doubtful. Your aunt is stealthy. If she wasn’t a woman, I have no doubt she would be a spy for the King.”

  Gillian nodded. “She’d be the best.”

  “Shall we continue with the excursion for a bit, to satisfy your aunt that we have spent sufficient time alone? Then you can go back and charm a proposal out of Sutherland, while I run interference against your aunt and your betrothed.”

  Gillian winced. The whole affair sounded so awful when put so bluntly. “Can we just lay here for a few minutes?”

  It seemed like ages since she had simply relaxed. Trying to keep her father and Lord Westonburt in the dark as to what she was up to while batting her eyelashes, smiling continuously and laughing at everything Mr. Sutherland said was exhausting. The only time she had not felt on edge in three days was right now lying here in the sunshine. She frowned, realizing with a start that she had also been relaxed yesterday when riding back to her aunt’s house with Alex. And the day before, when she and Alex had chatted while waiting for the storm to pass. Oh, they had exchanged barbed banter back and forth, but it had been fun, until he had stolen that kiss.

  Her pulse quickened in memory of his lips against hers. She concentrated hard on the shapes of the clouds.

  “What are you doing?”

  Was that her imagination or was his voice husky? She would not turn her head his way. As long as she didn’t look at him, she would be perfectly fine. “It’s silly, but I like to study the shapes of the clouds.”

  “Me too,” he said so casually that she turned to gape at him without thinking. He was not looking at her though. He was on his back, his gaze focused upward and his head propped up on his rolled up jacket. Her eyes trailed to his chest. When had he taken off his jacket?

  Her heart thumped wildly. As he raised his hand to point at the sky, she was helpless to do anything but stare at him.

  “I see a dog, a knight and a lady-in-waiting. What do you see?” He turned his head to face her, his lips parting and his breath swishing out in the softest exhalation.

  All she could see was him. She was too mesmerized by his aching beauty to even unscramble her brain and turn her gaze back to the clouds. The wind blew a cool breeze just then. She shivered. Perhaps it was the temperature. She had dressed for warmer weather because yesterday had been unusually warm, but today it was cool again.

  She opened her mouth to say they should get going, but when he reached out and ran his hand up and down her arm, all her thoughts left her head.

  “Your teeth are chattering.” He said the statement simply, as if putting his hand on her arm to warm her was the most innocent thing. His hand slid back and forth over her arm, warming her not only there but in every part of her body. His touch was incredible. She could not pull her gaze away from his bicep, where his muscle bulged underneath his shirt every time his hand stroked the length of her arm.

  Belatedly, she realized she had not responded to his statement and she was staring. She did not know what to say. She should protest, demand he quit, but she did not want to. This was desire. Real desire. Maybe she would never feel it again. She had not yet felt any sort of spark with Mr. Sutherland.

  With her heart thumping loudly, she parted her lips. She knew what she wanted. For one moment in time, she wanted to pretend that she was a normal debutante and that Alex was courting her because he wanted to marry her. And she wanted to say yes.

  She swallowed thickly, trying to find her voice. Taking a deep breath she said, “Kiss me.”

  * * * * *

  Alex did not need to be asked twice. It had taken every ounce of restraint he possessed not to kiss her. Being around Gillian for these last three days and denying his natural desire for her had been more punishing than any boxing match he had ever fought at Gentleman Jackson’s. Her simple plea was all the encouragement he needed.

  He tugg
ed her to him until their lips were so close, he could smell her sweet breath. Her scent intoxicated him. He breathed deeply and slid his hand to the back of her neck. Her skin felt like silk under his fingertips. He tilted her head back and moved in to press his lips to hers. Desire poured through his veins.

  He knew he should end the kiss. Their desire for each other could lead nowhere good for her or him. But he could not do it. He wanted to deepen the kiss, not end it. He kissed the corner of her mouth and then trailed kisses across her jaw. When a moan escaped her, his heart quickened in response.

  He found her mouth again and pressed his lips harder to hers. He needed more of her. He had never wanted a woman this much. He wanted to taste her. Taking a chance, he parted her mouth with his tongue. She met him tentatively, and then more boldly, until their tongues danced together. His hand moved from her neck to her back, and he pulled her body up against his until the swell of her breasts crushed against his chest.

  He knew he had to stop where this was going, but when her hand clutched at his arm and she threw her head back to give him further access to her neck he was lost. His fingers went to the buttons at the back of her dress. He had one thought in his head―to feel her bare skin against him. That would be heaven. He could be alone for the rest of his life, if he had that memory.

  He fumbled with the first button, his own ragged breathing filling his ears. A twig snapped beside him and brought reality crashing down around him. He pushed her away as he rolled up to his feet prepared to explain, fight or offer for her hand―whatever it took to protect her.

  Gillian’s sister smirked at him. “Auntie sent me to find the two of you. It’s time for lunch, and Gillian’s betrothed is becoming quite irritated by her absence.”

  Gillian scrambled to her feet. Her sister scrutinized her, and Alex knew what she saw. The rosy lips, the disheveled hair, the dazed look. Had his kissed really dazed her? Satisfaction flowed through him. “Our hike through the woods was most invigorating.”

  “I see that,” Lady Whitney said. Her voice dripped with disbelief.

  “And I see your ankle is all better,” Alex commented, wishing to turn her attention.

  A blush colored her cheeks. “Good as new. Quite amazing.”

  He tried to capture Gillian’s gaze to convey his apology with his eyes, but she would not look at him. He did not blame her. She had asked for a simple kiss, and he almost ravaged her. He battered himself with recriminations. What had he been thinking, touching her arm to warm her?

  He had started to seduce an innocent, when he knew perfectly well she wanted marriage. He was as bad as everyone thought. Except, he had―he realized with numbing shock―been prepared to offer for her hand if the person who had stumbled upon them could ruin her reputation. What was happening to him? “Shall I escort the two of you back to the house?”

  “No,” Gillian said sharply and finally met his gaze. “Please don’t.”

  “She’s right,” Lady Whitney agreed. “Besides, Auntie’s lady’s maid is waiting at the edge of the woods where you left her to come back and fetch your coat.”

  “I did?” Alex asked, trying to figure out where Lady Whitney was going with this.

  “You did.” She nodded. “And Lauren, who was sent by Auntie to escort you and Gillian on your hike, waited with Gillian at the edge of the woods for you to retrieve your coat, which is why the three of you have been gone for so long.”

  “Of course,” he said. He understood perfectly now. Gillian’s aunt had made sure his excursion with Gillian appeared perfectly proper, though he suspected the lady was hoping it was anything but. What did Gillian’s aunt think? That Gillian would be so befuddled by him that she would abandon her plan to marry Sutherland and let herself be seduced instead? Then what? Did she suppose he would then offer for her niece’s hand and Gillian would stay in England as the aunt obviously wanted?

  He ground his teeth together. The aunt clearly did not know how stubborn Gillian was or that he had vowed―after Lady Staunton had taught him that women wanted the best possible match over love―that he would never marry anyone. He proffered a quick bow. “I believe my services here are over for the day.”

  At Gillian’s sharp inhalation of breath, he cursed himself. Why had he chosen those words? He did not want to hurt Gillian. Hell, he had just been prepared to break his vow to save her. But she would never know that.

  * * * * *

  Gillian was not sure if she took more care to avoid Alex the next day or if he took more care to avoid her. Either way, their not spending any more time alone was for the best. Her desire for one simple kiss had almost been her willing ruination.

  With great effort, she put Alex out of her head and spent the day with Auntie and Mr. Sutherland. It was a simple matter of good luck that Father had been called away to deal with a problem on their estate, and Auntie had suggested Lord Westonburt accompany him, so they might have an opportunity to bond.

  Gillian giggled, thinking of both men’s flabbergasted faces. Neither had been able to refuse the suggestion, though it was apparent both had wanted to. Gillian expected her aunt to beg a headache or some such excuse and leave her and Mr. Sutherland to their own devices, especially after the thorough dressing down she had given her aunt the night before for interfering, but Auntie stayed with them all day.

  It was just as well, Gillian decided that night as she lay in her bed and tried to fall asleep. She had been rotten company, and Auntie had carried most of the conversation with Mr. Sutherland. Hopefully, he would not notice she had been sullen today.

  She tossed and turned in her bed. She knew what was wrong with her, but she wanted to deny it. Alex was her problem. He had occupied the better part of her thoughts all day. His eyes. His lips. The wonderful way he kissed. The way he rode a horse. The wounded look in his eyes when she had asked him not to accompany her back to the house yesterday, and then the clear anger at himself.

  As much as that man was a rake, he was good. She was sure he was playing at being something else to hide deep wounds, and the thought that some woman would someday come along and help him accept who he really was made Gillian jealous. She squeezed her eyes determinedly shut and forced his face away. He was not her future. She had no right to be jealous. Tomorrow was a new day, and she would concentrate all her efforts and attention on Mr. Sutherland.

  “What do you mean he’s gone?” Gillian demanded of her aunt.

  Auntie set down her needlework and pinned Gillian with a look that could only be interpreted as exasperated. “Gone. As in not here. I determined your sister needed a new dress for the ball tomorrow night, and you know perfectly well the only one who can create something sensational in such a short time here in the country is Madame Beaupont.”

  “Auntie,” Gillian growled, not caring that Alex was sitting on the couch. He wasn’t paying much heed to her anyway. A scowl marred his face, and he was staring, it appeared rather incomprehensively, at a paper in his lap. “I don’t see what Whitney getting a dress has to do with Mr. Sutherland.”

  “She couldn’t very well go into town without a chaperone,” Auntie said with a roll of her eyes.

  “And you consider Mr. Sutherland a proper chaperone for an unwed girl?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, dear. He’s driving them.”

  Gillian pressed her fingertips to her aching temples―that was what having no sleep would do to a woman. She took a deep, calming breath. “Auntie, please explain―slowly.”

  Her aunt paused with her needle in mid-air. “The Duke and Duchess of Primwitty finally arrived this morning. The duchess insisted she needed a new bonnet for walking around out of doors. Their driver was indisposed, and you certainly cannot expect me to allow the Duke of Primwitty to drive himself around. I may not be conventional, but I do try to retain some social graces.”

  Gillian flopped into a chair, exhausted from trying to obtain a reasonable explanation from her aunt. Her aunt was speaking in confusing circles on purpose. “What about y
our coachman?”

  “The poor fellow is indisposed.”

  Gillian snorted. No doubt his illness had more to do with her aunt telling him to feign sickness than anything else. “So you’re telling me Whitney has gone into town with Sally and the duke as her chaperone and Mr. Sutherland as her driver?”

  “My, your thoughts are elsewhere today, dearest.” Auntie glanced meaningfully at Alex. Gillian had the urge to kick and scream like a child would, except it would do her no good. “I would never ask the duchess to assume the role of chaperone. Social graces, remember?”

  “I remember,” Gillian said wearily.

  “My lady’s maid has gone along as the chaperone, which worked out perfectly because poor Lauren had not been able to see her mother in ages, and now she can.”

  Gillian was almost afraid to ask, but she had to know. “Whatever do you mean?”

  “The duke and duchess graciously agreed to allow Lauren to stop at her mother’s house in the village for a visit. They should all be back by nightfall.”

  “Nightfall,” Gillian repeated, seething. Her aunt had effectively managed to keep Mr. Sutherland away from her for the entire day, and there were only three more days left until the house party was over. She didn’t bother to remind Auntie that she had promised not to interfere, because of course she had promised no such thing. The woman was too clever. Gillian would have to think of a way to outwit her aunt for the next two days, and as much as she did not want to risk spending any more time alone with Alex, she needed his help.

  She glanced at him, surprised to find his blue eyes assessing her. A small smile pulled at his lips. “It’s not all bad.”

  “How?” she snapped.

  “Now you can spend the day hiding from your betrothed.”

  Gillian groaned. In her haste to arrive here this morning and see Mr. Sutherland, she had not spared one thought for Lord Westonburt.