Bargaining With a Rake (A Whisper of Scandal Novel)

by Johnstone, Julie

  Alex crossed to the foot of the bed and retrieved his shirt. “I do pride myself in my unique abilities to boggle a woman’s mind, so I thank you.”

  “What are you doing here, Whit?” Gillian tried to force herself to concentrate on her sister’s face and not the way Alex’s muscles rippled as he maneuvered into his clothing.

  “I came to fetch you before Father sets out to find you.”

  “Father?”

  “Yes. You know, the man whose house you live in?” Whitney crossed the room to Gillian and started tugging a hand through her hair. Gillian swatted her away. “What are you doing?”

  “Making you presentable.” Whitney jerked on Gillian’s bodice and then pulled on the folds of her dress. “Father’s about to go stark raving mad, and your fiancé is there as well. He’s come for the wedding, which is to be tomorrow, since apparently your betrothed cannot wait to make you his.”

  “The hell he will,” Alex growled from the bed as he put on one of his boots. “I’ll kill him first.” Alex shoved his other foot in the boot and stood up with a ferocious glare on his face.

  Already Gillian could feel her peace slipping away. She pressed her fingertips to her forehead in an effort to think. “Does Father know where I am?”

  “No. I knew because I saw your carriage several hours ago when I rode past with the Primwittys.”

  “Sally and His Grace know I was in this cabin with Alex?” Gillian groaned.

  Whitney raised her eyebrows, her smirk deepening until both her dimples pierced her cheeks. “Well, none of us knew for sure, but we all suspected when we saw your carriage and Alex’s horse tied to the tree beside it. Auntie said you probably sought shelter from the rain in the cabin.”

  “You mean Auntie knows as well?” Gillian cried.

  “Mm-hmm. She’s the one that insisted we just drive right past and leave the two of you alone to figure each other out. The plan was to come fetch you after Father was to bed. Auntie told Father you were at her house visiting with Trent, but Father wouldn’t be deterred. He said you had to come home straight away and was having his horse readied when I left. I don’t know what the major ruckus is about, but from the bits and pieces I heard outside Father’s door, Lord Westonburt is very angry.”

  Gillian squared her shoulders. “Time to face Father.”

  Whitney clutched Gillian’s hand. “What are you going to do?”

  Alex was across the room and beside Gillian before she could answer. “She’s going to marry me.”

  “Thank God,” Whitney said. “But how will you convince Father to give you his permission?”

  “She’s going to tell your father what Westonburt did to my sister.”

  “I am?” Gillian locked gazes with him. She could hardly believe he was willing to sacrifice his sister’s name for her. “Are you sure? What about your sister’s reputation?”

  “My sister would want this,” Alex said, putting his arm around Gillian’s waist and pulling her close. He pressed his lips close to her ear. “I love you.”

  “I love you too,” she whispered back.

  “Father can’t help but agree when he sees the two of you,” Whitney exclaimed.

  Gillian shook her head. “Not the two of us. That might enrage Father to think I defied him and then brought Alex to rub my defiance in his face.” She took a deep breath and turned to face Alex. She knew he was going to disagree, but she also knew her father. “I have to go alone.”

  “Not a chance,” he said flatly.

  “Please.” She pressed a hand to his chest. “You have to trust me. My father will be unreasonable enough. Your presence will make it worse.”

  “Trust you, huh?”

  She nodded. She knew how hard this was for him. He had not trusted anyone in so long, and here she was asking him to trust in her right after they had just settled matters between them. She had not exactly given him much time to get used to putting faith in her. Then again, she had no choice.

  “I trust you,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean I like you facing Westonburt alone,” Alex growled.

  “I won’t be alone.”

  “I won’t leave her,” Whitney interjected.

  Gillian did not comment on Whitney’s statement. Instead, she wrapped her arms around Alex. “I’ll talk to Father, break my engagement with Westonburt, and when I have done everything I can to smooth things over, I’ll send Whitney to retrieve you.”

  “Two hours. Not a second more,” Alex grumbled, crushing Gillian to his chest and putting his mouth to her ear. “I mean it. If your sister is not back here in two hours, you can expect me to come crashing through your door.”

  Gillian didn’t doubt his words. She stood on tiptoe and brushed her lips to his. “Don’t worry. Everything will be fine.” As fine as it could be, considering what she was about to do and say.

  In tense silence, Gillian drove the carriage Whitney had brought to retrieve her. When they neared the house, Gillian saw that Sally and Peter were getting into their coach. Thank goodness. The fewer people she had to worry about the better.

  “Sally and Peter are leaving,” Whitney cried.

  “That’s probably best.” Gillian smiled reassuringly at her sister. “I’d hate for them to hear Father if he gets too angry when I break off my engagement.”

  “I suppose,” Whitney replied, fidgeting in her seat. “At least Auntie is there, and I’ll be there too. We won’t leave your side. Don’t worry.”

  Gillian was worried, but not about Auntie or Whitney staying with her. She had to think of a way to get them to leave the house. She needed to speak freely to Father and let him know that Alex knew about the past and was more than willing to stand behind Whitney, even if whoever was threatening them spilled the truth. Gillian pulled back on the reins of the horses to slow their speed.

  “Whit, I want you to go home with Auntie.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t want Father to blame Auntie for any of this, and he will if she’s there.”

  “I suppose you’re right, but I don’t think I should leave you alone.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Gillian said, trying to infuse a calming, cheerful note into her quavering voice. “It’s not as if Father would beat me.”

  Whitney raised an eyebrow.

  “He has never beaten us,” Gillian admonished.

  “Not yet. But Lord Westonburt does not seem the type of man to mind hitting a woman. What if they try to force you to marry him today?”

  “Then I’ll leave the house. I’ll be twenty-one in one month. After that Father will have no control over me, and I’ll marry Alex.”

  “You’d be ruined!”

  “I hardly think Alex cares about my reputation.”

  Whitney sighed. “I wish there was someone who loved me so fiercely that nothing and no one in the world could make them relinquish me.”

  “I love you that way already.” Gillian reached beside her and grabbed her sister’s hand.

  “Thank you, but I was speaking of a man. Anyway, you cannot love two people so much that you would never abandon either of them.”

  “I can and I do,” Gillian replied as their carriage passed the Primwittys’ departing one. Gillian waved in response to Sally’s grin. She had no doubt Sally would want all the details later.

  Before the door to the house was closed behind her, her father appeared in the hallway, lines of anger pulling at his mouth. “Gillian, I want to see you in my study,” he snapped, causing her heart to skip a beat.

  “Of course.” She curtsied respectfully. The moment her father’s back was turned she gripped Whitney’s arm. “Take Auntie and go.”

  Whitney nodded and fled up the stairs to retrieve their aunt. Gillian took several deep breaths to calm her rolling stomach, then started toward her father’s study. Behind her, she could hear Whitney talking to her aunt, the door to the house being opened by the footman, and then silence filling the air. She sighed in relief. At least she need not worry about her
aunt and her sister now. That left Father and Westonburt. She prayed she would face them one at a time.

  As she entered her father’s study, she cursed inwardly. In the corner, in her father’s favorite overstuffed chair, sat Lord Westonburt with a drink in his hand and a cigar in his mouth. A fire roared in the grate, sending a sliver of smoke curling through the air and casting an oppressive heat over the room.

  Choosing to ignore Lord Westonburt’s presence, she faced her father. “May I speak to you in private?”

  “No,” he clipped and waved a hand to a chintz chair.

  Left with little choice, she strode toward the chair and sat back against the uncomfortable cushion. Sweat trickled down her back from the heat of the room, as well as her nerves. Her father poured himself a drink, swirling the liquid in the glass as if the situation were not at all odd. The ice clanked in the silence until the grating noise drove Gillian to her feet. Tension coiled through her as she glanced between the two men. Whom should she face first? Lord Westonburt was the obvious choice, since she wanted him long gone before she talked to Father.

  He rose as if sensing her thoughts, which bothered her. She backed away from him, but he stepped forward and in two long strides closed the distance between them. His fingers curled around her arms, pinching her skin. His face came inches from hers. “You have been a diligent little debutante lately.”

  She forced her fingernails under his fingers and pried his hand away. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Let me enlighten you, sweeting.” He hauled her to the settee where he dragged her down to sit beside him. “It’s come to my attention that you’ve been dallying with two other men. I hear the poor American fell into your web, and you ate him up and cast him aside like a spider getting rid of unwanted food.”

  Her stomach turned at his description, and her breathing, despite her best efforts, increased. Lord Westonburt’s gaze lingered on the rise and fall of her chest. His lips curved into a smile. “Lionhurst only wants you because you’re mine.”

  “That’s not true,” she retorted. Maybe it had been true in the beginning, but it was not now. Alex loved her.

  “Did he tell you he loved you? Pour his heart out to you?”

  She did not say a word, but heat flooded her cheeks.

  Lord Westonburt smirked at her. “Silly fool. He’s a rake. How many women do you think have fallen for the same act?”

  “You’re lying,” she insisted, though doubt crept in. Was he still there waiting in the cabin? Did he really love her? She gritted her teeth. He did love her. She knew he did.

  “I see you doubt me. Shall I tell you what he said to me at the ball?”

  Her heat banged in her ears. “No. You’ll just spew lies.” She wrenched her arm free of him, stood and faced her father. “I’ll not marry Lord Westonburt, and nothing you can do or say will change my mind.”

  Her father slammed his glass onto the table sloshing liquor over the side. “You’ll marry him.”

  “I won’t.”

  Her father stood, his face mottled red. “You stupid girl. Westonburt knows about Whitney. If you don’t marry him, he’ll tell everyone that your sister murdered your mother, and he’ll make sure Whitney’s life is ruined. Will you do that to your sister? Will you cast her to the wolves?”

  God. It was worse than she had ever imagined. She stumbled to the settee and sat.

  Lord Westonburt dropped down beside her, slapping his hand over one of her knees. “Don’t be angry at your father, sweeting.”

  She knocked his hand off her knee. “Do not touch me,” she spat, sliding away from him. She turned accusing eyes on her father. “How could he possibly know about Whitney?”

  “Sweeting, I can answer that. My father was shagging your mother.”

  Gillian jerked away from Lord Westonburt. She was going to be sick. She breathed deeply and swallowed until she felt under control.

  The sadness in her father’s eyes left little doubt to the truth of Lord Westonburt’s claim. “The man you saw with your mother was Lord Westonburt’s father.”

  “Why did you never tell me?”

  “I can answer that, sweeting. He hates you. You’re not even his daughter.”

  “I’m going to be sick,” she mumbled, snatching Lord Westonburt’s drink out of his hands. She threw back the contents of the glass, the caramel liquor burning a fiery path down her throat and igniting a flame inside her belly. “Is it true?” She met her father’s eyes.

  “It’s true. But I don’t hate you.” Her father cast a glare at Lord Westonburt. “I did. For years. Your mother told me the day she died you were not mine. I’d always suspected, but to hear her say it…” He shuddered.

  Gillian clutched at her dress. “If you’re not my father, then who is?” Her eyes trailed to Lord Westonburt, who was smirking at her. “You don’t mean…? That is to say, we―” she motioned a hand between herself and Lord Westonburt.

  “Rest easy, sweeting. You’re not related to me. Your dear old dad is dead. Been dead for years, according to my dying father’s confession. Your mother shagged her father’s coachman. The poor sap ended up dead in a carriage accident. She married your father out of need, not love.”

  Gillian’s heart wrenched at Lord Westonburt’s words and the way her father flinched. The truth explained so much, though. The way Father had always treated her coldly. The way he had done everything in his power to protect Whitney.

  “I’m sorry,” her father said.

  She shook her head. She didn’t blame him. How could she? He’d been duped into marriage, then cuckolded and left to care for a child who was not even his. He could have turned her out to the streets, named her illegitimate, but he’d kept her here and done the best he could. She owed him, and she owed Whitney.

  “Now you know almost everything, sweeting.” Lord Westonburt smiled then as if it were all a game, as if ruining her life gave him pleasure, which it likely did.

  She glared at him until his smile faltered. “What else can there possibly be?”

  “Don’t you want to know how I know about your sweet little sister pushing your wanton mother to her death?”

  Gillian nodded wearily.

  “Seems my mother had a suspicion my father was shagging another woman. She followed him the night your mother died. Mum saw everything and used it to her advantage.”

  “How could she possibly have used that night to her advantage?”

  “My father was a weak man, God rest his pathetic soul. He told Mummy dearest everything, right down to the gritty details of your illegitimacy. Mum may be a black-hearted wench, but she’s a rather smart woman. She used her newly acquired information to blackmail your father.”

  “Blackmail?” Gillian glanced at her father.

  He nodded. “She threatened to tell the ton you were illegitimate and that Whitney was a murderer. So I bought her silence.”

  “For how long?” Gillian whispered, her head reeling from the truth.

  “Since the year your mother died.”

  “You protected me?” She swallowed away a lump of emotion. She had told herself it didn’t matter if he didn’t love her, but it did. Knowing he had protected her mattered a great deal.

  “Of course. As best I could. Until she demanded I betroth you to him.” Her father jerked his thumb at Lord Westonburt.

  Lord Westonburt smiled. “I suppose this is where I come back in. Father confessed everything on his deathbed to me. Naturally, I took up the reins of blackmail as is my duty and right. So you have a choice, my lady. You can marry me or I’ll destroy you and your sister.”

  “I don’t give a damn about myself,” she snapped.

  Lord Westonburt’s eyebrows rose. “Such nasty language from such a lovely lady. You may not care about your own reputation, but can you say the same for you sister?”

  He had her. He knew he did. She hated him. Her fingers twitched with the desire to claw out his beady eyes. But she could not do that. What she had to do was
worse than maiming. Worse than murder. She would rather be dead. But she was not.

  She was going to have to betray Alex to save her sister.

  Alex pounded against the door until it swung open. He had expected to have to push past a footman, possibly Gillian’s father and hopefully Westonburt. Instead, Alex reached toward Gillian.

  She flinched backward. Ice filled his veins. “What’s wrong?”

  “You shouldn’t have come.”

  Westonburt appeared behind her. “It’s pathetic of you to chase my fiancée.”

  “Your fiancée?” Alex didn’t care for those words or what they implied.

  “But of course,” Westonburt replied. “Did you expect something different? Tomorrow she’ll be my wife. Perhaps you thought we’d already married?”

  He had no idea why Gillian had not broken the engagement yet, but he would sure as hell do it for her. “She’s not going to marry you.”

  “Are you calling me a liar?” Westonburt demanded, coming face-to-face with Alex.

  “Gillian, tell him.”

  “Alex.” She stepped toward him, then stopped. Tears streamed down her face. “He knows everything. He’s the blackmailer, and he’ll destroy my sister.”

  Alex would kill Westonburt, but first he had to calm Gillian. He reached for her, but she shoved against his chest. Fear curled in his belly. “Gillian, listen to me.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t sacrifice my sister to have you. I’d never be happy knowing what I’d done.” She pushed him back until he stumbled out of the open door and into the dark night. “Forget you ever loved me.”

  Before he could protest, the door closed with a bang and the lock clicked with finality. He stood for a moment, fuming. He could break a window and get inside, but what good would it do? She was terrified for her sister and would sacrifice herself to protect Lady Whitney.

  Alex needed a plan, and he needed one fast. There was no way he could live without her. He jumped on his horse, unsure where he was going to go. And then an idea came to him. She may end up hating him for what he was about to do, but he was betting eventually she would get over it. He prayed he was right.