Bargaining With a Rake (A Whisper of Scandal Novel)

by Johnstone, Julie

  Sally poked Gillian in the arm.

  “Am I doing it again?”

  “Darling, you are going to make me wonder if I have become a bore unless you start listening to me.”

  “You could not ever be called a bore. It’s me, truly it is. What did you say, Sally?”

  “I said, I think Drake is going to offer marriage to you tonight.” Sally studied her with narrow eyes then waved her toward the settee. “Isn’t that wonderful? He plans to leave in a week to go back to America, and you and Whitney can go with him. It will all be settled. Your plan has worked out perfectly. It makes me feel so sad.”

  Gillian felt queasy. “Might I have a refreshment, Sally? I feel rather light-headed.”

  “What would you like?” Sally waved a servant over. “Tea?”

  “Claret, please.”

  A small smile curled Sally’s lips. “Jonsey, bring Lady Gillian some claret. Oh, and I’ll take a glass too.”

  She settled back into the settee and tugged on Gillian’s arm until they both leaned far into the cushions. “Now, be a good little girl and tell me what’s going on while it’s just the two of us. Your aunt and sister will be back from the gardens any moment, and the men are likely to burst in from whatever mischief they’re up to at any time.”

  Gillian took a breath to speak, but Sally cleared her throat, indicating that the servant was present. Gillian took her drink and started with a few tentative sips. The warm liquor slid down her throat and pooled in her belly, loosening some of the knots on contact. That was nice. She didn’t usually drink, but tonight she would make an exception. Tilting the glass up, she gulped the wine in four swallows.

  Sally took the empty glass out of Gillian’s hands and set it down on a side table next to her full, untouched glass. Sally waved Jonsey away when he appeared before them with another glass for Gillian. She was inclined to reach for it, but her head already hummed quite nicely, and she was afraid one more glass might turn the nice hum into a noisy chorus.

  “Darling, you don’t love Mr. Sutherland, do you?”

  Gillian grimaced. “Dear God, is it that obvious?”

  The front door slammed and a booming male voice carried down the hall. A masculine voice. A soothing voice. Alex’s voice. Gillian smiled. And then a woman’s shrill, grating laughter joined Alex’s rich baritone. He had brought another woman. Gillian frowned, then caught Sally looking at her with a grin.

  “I believe Alex is here,” Gillian murmured.

  “Yes. I think you’re right,” Sally replied, continuing to stare.

  Gillian fidgeted under the Duchess’ probing gaze. “Darling, I’d like to tell you a story.” Sally eyed the hallway with a frown. “It will have to be the abbreviated version.”

  Gillian nodded.

  Sally pressed close to her. “Once there were two young men named Alex and Robert.”

  Gillian’s gaze went immediately to where she had heard Alex’s voice.

  “That’s right, darling, I mean Alex and his brother. Robert had the title, but Alex had everything else that Robert longed for. Do you know what I mean?”

  “I can imagine,” Gillian murmured, thinking of Alex’s smile, his wit, his dancing eyes and magnetic presence.

  Sally eyed her knowingly. “I’m sure you can. Robert was never nice. Even as a child he was greedy and jealous, but Alex worshipped Robert as younger brothers are wont to do. He forgave Robert every slight and overlooked all his flaws. Until one day, because Alex is human, he snapped. And decided to fight back.”

  “What did he do?”

  Sally’s eyes darted to the hall, and then back to Gillian. “He was having a rather steamy affair with Lady Staunton―of course then she was unmarried and was Lady Granton. She chased Alex until he gave her his attention. I can attest to that.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” Gillian replied, her stomach turning with jealousy that the woman had experienced an intimacy with Alex that Gillian had spent the last month dreaming about.

  “As soon as she had Alex embroiled in her web, Robert came after her.”

  “Because she wanted Alex?”

  “Of course,” Sally said. “She later bragged, though, about using Alex to capture Robert. She knew exactly what she was doing. We all had witnessed for years how Robert wanted to take everything away from Alex. Belittle him, if you will.”

  “His brother took Lady Staunton?”

  “In more ways than one,” Sally said with a cynical smile. “He offered her marriage―the only thing that would induce her to leave Alex, and of course she accepted. I think she must have fallen in love with Alex, though she loved the idea of being a duchess more. I don’t know the exact details, but she ended up back in Alex’s arms the very night she became betrothed to Robert. Robert found them―how shall I say this delicately?―naked as the day they were born.”

  Gillian clutched at the material of her dress. She should tell Sally to cease the story, but she wanted to know the rest. She needed to understand what was driving Alex. “Did Alex tell you this?”

  “Don’t be absurd. The man is as communicative as a dead fish. One night when he was rather sloppily filled with whiskey, mead and I do believe whatever else he could find, he told Peter, and Peter told me. Alex doesn’t remember the night whatsoever. So you see, Alex is like he is because he was once human. He feels guilty for sleeping with his brother’s betrothed even though his brother stole the wretched woman from Alex.”

  “What happened to Robert? Alex said he drove his brother to his death.”

  “Of course not, darling, but if he doesn’t blame himself, he would have to face who Robert really was. Then Alex would have to do the hard thing and take chances on life and love once more. As for Robert, he shot himself. But not one of us believes he ever meant to actually kill himself. Just wound himself to wound Alex.”

  “How terrible,” Gillian whispered as she stood and went to the door where she might have a better view of the hallway. Sally came next to her just as Alex appeared, swaggering down the hall with a tall woman clinging to his arm. Her long, silky black hair swayed as she walked, and Gillian had the urge to go up to the woman and yank a chunk out of her head.

  “He’s punishing himself for what he did.” It made perfect sense to her. She wished it did not. She loved him even more now. Gillian moaned, retreating into the room, trying to prepare herself to greet the man she loved with a woman who had his undivided attention. “I had such a perfect plan.”

  Sally patted Gillian’s hand. “Perfection is overrated. Alex would keep you in England with me if you were to marry.”

  That was exactly what she didn’t need, but he was everything she wanted. Her head was a disaster and so was her life.

  Seven different women in seven nights, and not for one second had Alex’s thoughts turned from Gillian. At the sound of her voice, he turned away from the parlor and headed in the opposite direction toward the terrace, dragging Maria with him. Maria was his latest attempt to erase the feel of Gillian’s lips under his, her soft skin beneath his fingertips and her heartbeat against his palm as he had touched her bare skin. Gillian was everything a woman should be and more than he would ever deserve.

  “Why did you turn us, chéri?” Maria questioned with a pout on her painted red lips.

  “I need some air.” He glanced down at the woman clinging to his arm. He had always thought Maria Moreti enticing. Perhaps it was her lovely operatic voice and her stage presence, but more than likely, it was her exceptional skills in bed. But as he looked into her slanted cocoa eyes, he had no desire whatsoever to taste the charms he had once found so alluring. In fact, he wished he had not brought her here tonight to Sally and Peter’s dinner party. How could he have thought this wise?

  Maria could never distract his attention away from Gillian. Tonight, he would have to suffer through every agonizing moment of Gillian sitting across from him and staring into Sutherland’s eyes. Maybe she would touch Sutherland or laugh with him. Alex ground his teeth.
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  He wasn’t at all sure he could contain his hands from wrapping around Sutherland’s throat if his friend played the besotted fool. And choking his business partner would not be good for their company or their friendship. Not to mention Sutherland had done nothing wrong.

  He just had the fine fortune to be in the position to whisk Gillian and her sister away from England. Sutherland deserved a good woman. Alex deserved nothing. He proceeded past the study door and the men’s voices raised in conversation and turned Maria toward the terrace overlooking the gardens. Fresh air would clear his head and give him some perspective and, with any luck, the ability to make it through the night.

  This would be the last bloody night he played chaperone to the two lovebirds, since Sutherland meant to propose marriage tonight. The thought brought a bitter taste to Alex’s mouth, but he was glad the deed would be done. Maybe then he could forget Gillian and get back to his life.

  He pushed the terrace door open and swore. Rain poured from above, driven in a slanting motion by the wind. Looking up at the overhang off the terrace, he judged it sufficient to keep them dry. He stepped down the first step, but Maria held back. “We’ll stay dry,” he said, pointing up to the ledge.

  “No, chéri. My makeup and hair will ruin from the spray. I’ll not stand out here. Take me inside to the other women, or even better, let us join the men.”

  He examined her face in the pale moonlight. She was not a fresh beauty as Gillian was. Gillian wore no paint, nor did she need to. Suddenly, he could not stand the thought of touching Maria or her touching him. “Show yourself to the men in the study. I’m sure they’ll be glad to receive you. But try not to get into too much trouble before dinner.”

  As Maria left, he closed his eyes and allowed the breeze to surround and calm him. The night wind howled and hissed while rain splattered against the tiles of the terrace. He breathed in the scent of wet dirt, trees and grass. Lissie would have loved this night. She had always adored a storm. His throat tightened with her memory, and he opened his eyes to find Sutherland staring at him.

  “I brought you a whiskey,” Sutherland said, pushing a glass toward Alex. “Thought you might need to be warmed out here since you sent Signorina Moreti inside with us.”

  “She is a rather useful blanket at times, but I felt the need to be alone.”

  “Is that a hint?”

  “I suppose, but don’t take it the wrong way. I’m just feeling nostalgic.”

  “For what—or is it whom?” Sutherland tapped his glass against Alex’s.

  Alex turned up his glass and downed the entire contents. Maybe if he drank enough, the ache in his chest would go away.

  “Have I done something?” Sutherland asked.

  Well, old friend, you stole the woman I desire but have no right to. Alex would keep that to himself. He shook his head. “No. I’m just thinking of my sister. Her death has been on my mind a great deal.”

  “I understand.”

  And he did. Alex knew he did, because three nights ago he had told Sutherland all the details about Lissie and Westonburt. Alex did not think it fair for Sutherland to walk blindly into the situation with Gillian. Westonburt would likely be dangerous when provoked too far, and there was nothing like taking away a man’s greatest hope to bring his anger to the surface. The man was sure to lash out. Alex was prepared, but Sutherland needed to be ready as well, especially to watch out for Gillian’s safety.

  “Have you seen Westonburt since the card game?” Sutherland asked.

  Alex rolled his empty glass back and forth in his hands “I’ve not seen him, but I now hold the deed to his family’s home, and my man was there yesterday to confirm they had cleared out.”

  “What will you do with the house?”

  “I’ve arranged for it to be torn down starting tomorrow.” He had no idea what he would do from there, but he would never step foot in the house where Westonburt once lived, breathed and plotted to seduce Lissie.

  “That’ll drive that man crazy. He’ll know you never wanted the house.”

  Alex pushed away from the wall. “That’s the point. I want him to know I took his money simply to throw it all away. Simply because I detest the air he breathes.” His stomach turned at the sound of his own voice. He needed another drink and quick. Revenge made him ill. “I’m going inside.”

  “Wait a minute, would you?”

  Alex forced himself to stand still. “What is it?”

  “Can you provide one more distraction tonight?”

  “Will felicitations be in order?” Did he sound as angry as he felt?

  “I sure as hell hope so,” Sutherland replied. “It remains to be seen. Gillian is, after all, already betrothed, but we both know she doesn’t love him.”

  “Do you love her?” It was none of his damned business, but he had to know.

  “Well, not yet, but hopefully someday. She’s everything a man could want in a woman. She’ll be the perfect wife for me, and I know that everyone back home will love her. What’s not to love? She’s smart, she’s beautiful and she comes from a good family.”

  “You sound like you’re speaking of a brood mare you want to buy,” Alex growled.

  Sutherland elbowed Alex in the side. “Is there a difference?”

  There was a difference with her. Alex struggled to control his anger. Gillian was life, breath and happiness for any man who would be lucky enough to claim her. The fool didn’t see it yet, but devil take it, Sutherland would have enough years to figure it out. The chance was his for the taking. Not Alex’s.

  “Good God, Alex, I’m just joking. I’m sure we’ll get along fine. You act like she’s your damn sister or something, the way you’re so protective.” Sutherland started to leave, then stopped and turned back. “You don’t care for her, do you?”

  Hell yes, he did. But he shouldn’t. Alex forced a slight smile. “I care for her as a friend.” For a moment, he actually felt good about himself. He had given away the one thing he wanted more than anything in this world. He had given Gillian to the better man.

  Seated at the Primwitty’s dining table directly across from Alex and the woman who clung to his arm, Gillian had a hard time forcing herself to eat, let alone concentrate on the conversation flowing around her. It required all of her willpower not to stare at Alex and Signorina Moreti. If the woman would keep her hands off Alex for even a moment, perhaps being able to swallow one bite of food without worrying it might come right back up would be possible.

  Gillian wished she could stop looking at Alex, but his obvious enjoyment of the garish display of affection made her want to scream. The least he could do was act like a gentleman, but she held little hope that he would remember his manners. He seemed quite happy with Signorina Moreti’s shameful groping.

  Gillian had to look away. Really she must. But just as she started to pull her gaze to Drake, Signorina Moreti squealed with delight when the servant put a dessert down in front of her. As Gillian’s lemon custard was placed before her, she studied the confection. Certainly, it smelled delicious and the thick white cream on top looked inviting, but to squeal over it? A million scathing remarks filled her head, but instead of opening her mouth and getting herself into trouble, she dug her spoon into the dessert and plopped a mouthful of custard in where a biting comment waited to come out.

  She would get through this final course, then excuse herself, claiming a stomachache. It was true enough, given how her stomach turned each time Signorina Moreti put her hands on Alex. When the woman drove her spoon into her custard with gusto then raised it to Alex’s lips, Gillian frowned. Surely, he would not allow himself to be fed. When he opened wide, Gillian set her spoon down with a clank. Alex’s gaze met hers, and his right eyebrow shot up.

  She returned Alex’s stare with what she sincerely hoped was a look of disdain. “It seems you have forgotten how to feed yourself.”

  The hum of conversation around her abruptly stopped. Why in the world could she not hold her tongue? Now that s
he had said it, she refused to act remorseful. She held his cold gaze that did not flicker from her. He quaffed down his wine, set his glass down and leaned his elbows on the table. “Jealous?”

  “Certainly not,” she bit out, though heat flamed her cheeks, displaying her lie for the whole table.

  “Well, I’m certainly jealous,” Auntie commented, poking her spoon in her custard and then shoving it into Alex’s gaping mouth. The tension around the table died away, replaced with laughter and comments from men and women alike that they all wanted a chance to feed Alex. Everyone roared with laughter except her and―she noted with grim satisfaction―Alex.

  He scowled at her, and she forced herself to smile widely. Her cheeks ached from her effort to pretend merriment. Let him think she did not care.

  When her aunt cleared her throat, Gillian drew her gaze away from Alex and met Auntie’s probing look. Auntie tilted her head and tapped her fingers against her glass as if in deep thought. Gillian got the feeling her aunt was about to embark on another of her blunt shows.

  “Mr. Sutherland, do tell us all about America. I wish to know every little detail about your home and the culture.”

  Gillian slumped in her chair with relief.

  “My home”―Drake leaned back, a wistful look on his face―“is on one of the busiest streets in New York. All hours of the day you can hear carriages rumbling by. The city is alive and noisy. I love it.”

  “Sounds dreadful,” Auntie remarked. “But I’m a country lady at heart. Tell me about the culture. What do you do for entertainment?”

  “Much the same as here. We go to the opera, balls, dinners, horse races and picnics. Do you want me to categorize all of our pastimes and give you a detailed description?”