His Scandal

by Gayle Callen

  She hesitated. “That must have been difficult.”

  “I hadn’t thought so at first. Then it became uncomfortable, and I began to resist Spence’s requests for help.”

  “Why was it uncomfortable?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  He bit into his apple, and she was patient while he chewed it. When he didn’t offer more, she softly said, “Sometimes I feel like I’m always behind Blythe, in the shadows, I guess.”

  “How ridiculous.” He tossed the apple aside and propped himself higher on his hand, so that they faced one another. “If you are, ’tis only because you put yourself there.”

  “Did I?” she asked boldly, studying him, wanting to see that this connection between them was more than physical, that there was much they shared. “Why would I do that?”

  He was watching her lips now, and she fought the urge to wet them with her tongue.

  “You’re trying to distract me,” he said.

  “From what?” Her voice was breathless as her desires cavorted madly throughout her body, making her feel hot and flustered and aching with the want of his touch.

  He cocked his head to the side and reached up to cup her cheek. “I seem to remember that you still owe me a kiss.”

  She looked at his mouth. “Why?”

  “For turning Max into a much sought-after gentleman.”

  She couldn’t think, could barely quote his words back to him. “The terms of the wager have certainly not been met. I think you said you could turn him into the most sought-after gentleman in all of England.”

  His thumb rubbed across her bottom lip, parting it from the other. “But is he sought after by Blythe?”

  She blinked slowly, lazily, leaning toward him. “Perhaps,” she whispered, then shuddered as his finger touched her tongue.

  He suddenly released her and lay back on the embankment to look up at her. “I’m waiting.”

  “This is hardly an appropriate time or place,” she murmured, bracing herself on one arm as she leaned above him. Her hair slid over her shoulder to pool across his chest, and for a moment, she could have sworn he was stunned. He might not love her, but he desired her, and she felt powerful in the night, with the stars above her and Alex vulnerable below her.

  “This is the perfect time and place,” he said hoarsely. “Aren’t you always saying someone might see us?”

  She had no other answer than to lean even nearer, bracing her arm on the other side of his body. She saw how rapidly he breathed, how intently he watched her face. He showed a raw desire that made her feel truly a woman.

  She had learned much from him, and she used her knowledge well. With her mouth mere inches from his, she paused, letting her breath touch his face while she stared into his dark eyes. There was still so much he kept hidden, so much she wanted to understand.

  But she understood the power that crackled between them. It was mutual desire. She leaned even closer, and when her hair slid against his face, he gasped.

  Her body answered on its own, tightening deep inside until she wanted to press her thighs together to stop the ache.

  “Alex,” she whispered, then lightly touched her mouth to his.

  She felt him trembling as he lay there and allowed her the lead. She kissed him gently, her lips slightly parted as they tested the smooth shape of his. When she tasted the corner of his mouth with her tongue, she felt him shudder.

  In one uncontrollable moment, they both turned their heads and deepened the kiss. She gladly opened her mouth to him, rasping her tongue against his, tasting everything he was and wanting more. Nothing mattered but being as close to him as she could, giving everything up to this man who more and more meant everything to her.

  Emmeline lifted her head. “It’s time for poetry. Finish ‘The Seduction of Emmeline.’”

  “Finish…” he whispered, his eyes widening.

  She kissed him again, more confident with each intimacy. She rested her hand on the side of his face, feeling harsh stubble and smooth skin. “I think a stanza beneath the stars would be appropriate.” She moaned softly as her chest pressed to his.

  His big hand cupped her head and brought their mouths together again. She found herself rolled sideways until Alex was above her. The feel of him pressing her down was more exciting than she ever could have imagined. His leg parted her thighs, and then his body slid between them. Though they were still separated by all their garments, the pressure of him in such an intimate place made her cry out and shudder beneath him. His moist kisses covered her face, her neck, and lower. He fumbled with a button on her bodice, and she heard the slight tear of the delicate fabric. It mattered not a whit to her.

  But it must have to him. He suddenly stilled, his head at her breasts. Slowly, his gaze met hers.

  Chapter 24

  For just a moment longer, Alex allowed himself the sight of Emmeline, her eyes glittering with passion in the firelight, her hair a tumbled glory about her face. Everything in him strained to press deeper between her thighs. He wanted their clothes off, to see her nudity shine beneath the stars.

  But she was innocent, a virgin, and he’d ripped her gown in his haste to have her.

  “No,” he said, somehow finding the strength to roll off her and into a sitting position, his hands dangling between his bent knees.

  “No?” She came up on her elbows, bewildered hurt in her expression.

  “You deserve better than a damp, muddy hillside, Em. I won’t have this be your first memory of intimacy. You’re frightened and overwhelmed, and surely only clinging to me out of desperation.”

  “I’m not frightened, Alex, and please don’t imply that I would offer myself to any man who rescued me.”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “Yes, you did, and I wish to know why. Why don’t you think you would be the man I’d choose in any situation?”

  “Go to sleep, Emmeline,” he said tightly, not wanting to hear another word of her ridiculous notions. “Pull your cloak about you.”

  “If you don’t wish to discuss this now, fine, but there will be another day.”

  He looked away, before her disheveled appearance made him forget his nobility. He lay down on his side, his back to Em, and hugged his arms against the chill. For a few minutes, all he heard was the crackling of the fire, the distant sound of crickets, and the rapid pounding of his own heart.

  “I’m cold, Alex,” she said matter-of-factly. “I’m going to put more wood on the fire.”

  “No, we can’t risk our camp being seen in the distance.” He sighed loudly. “Just—lean up against my back.”

  He heard the rustle of her garments, then felt the press of her body from her shoulder to her hip. Her shivering didn’t stop.

  “Alex—”

  “Very well!” He rolled over and found her watching him. “Roll away from me.”

  “Alex—”

  “Stop questioning everything I ask and just do it.” He knew he sounded grumpy and rude, but wasn’t about to soften, not when he knew the torture he was about to face.

  And it was torture. He lifted the cloak, then reluctantly curled his body about hers, tucking his thighs behind hers, sliding his arm about her waist. Almost immediately her shivering lessened, and she gave a relieved sigh.

  Alex closed his eyes and tried to pretend he wasn’t feeling what he was feeling. Then in puzzlement he moved his hand at her waist and felt the hardness of her boned corset.

  “Emmeline? How can you possibly be comfortable in this?”

  “I see no other choice,” she said stiffly.

  “At least loosen it.”

  There was a pause, and he barely heard her soft voice. “I can’t do it by myself.”

  More and more, he was regretting his noble behavior. She would have had all of her garments off by now. Mumbling angrily beneath his breath, he reached between them and began to unbutton her gown.

  Though she stiffened, she said nothing, even when he loosened the laces of her corset. W
hen the garment didn’t immediately sag open, he gritted his teeth and worked the laces apart, touching the smooth skin of her back with each tug.

  When he could feel at least two inches of flesh between the laces, he heard her inhale deeply and release a satisfied sigh.

  “Thank you, Alex. Good night.”

  He almost gave her a real reason to be satisfied, but instead he pulled her rather hard against him and did his best to sleep.

  It didn’t go well. He felt every movement, heard every sound she made. He knew when she slipped into sleep by her deep breathing, and the way she relaxed and cuddled back into him. And all through it, his erection throbbed between them.

  Night dragged on endlessly, and finally in the early morning, Alex slept a few hours. When he awoke well before dawn, Emmeline was facing him, her head pressed to his chest, her arms twined about him against the cold. For some strange reason, he imagined waking up in her arms every morning.

  He told himself it would be boring, that her charms would fade for him. But he found himself kissing the top of her head just before gently shaking her awake.

  She moaned and burrowed even tighter against him, nestling her warm face against his neck. He steeled himself against her softness and pushed her away. When she opened her eyes she seemed puzzled, until reality flooded back.

  “Alex, come back here; it’s not even light yet.”

  He’d heard that from more than one mistress, and he chuckled.

  “What is it?” she asked suspiciously.

  “Nothing. But we need to start back the way we came. Wouldn’t you like to break your fast at a comfortable inn? And wouldn’t you like to get there without my enemies finding us?”

  Without another grumble, she stood up and the cloak dropped to the ground. She clutched at her gown as it sagged off her shoulders. Alex felt his mouth go dry even as she presented her back.

  “Could you lace me up, please?”

  Where was his prim Emmeline, guardian of her sister’s virtue? Just last night, she had wanted to give hers away.

  And he had refused. God, he was a fool.

  After two hours of walking, which tore holes in Emmeline’s town slippers, they reached a small but clean inn north of London. Alex made a lame excuse to the proprietor about their coach breaking down, while Emmeline tried not to look guilty.

  After all, what did she have to feel guilty about? She’d been captured and had barely managed to escape.

  And she’d wantonly offered herself to Alex Thornton. She was acting just like every other woman he knew.

  But she hadn’t been able to stop herself.

  Alex secured a private room for their meal, then whispered in her ear that he was dangerously low on funds. Luckily she had enough coins in the purse at her waist.

  It seemed to take forever, but soon there was hot porridge and apple cider and warm bread spread out before them. Emmeline had only taken one spoonful of porridge, when the door was suddenly thrown open and two plainly dressed men blocked the entrance.

  Even as their faces struck a chord in her memory, Alex surged to his feet and stepped before her. She couldn’t help leaning sideways to see.

  In the sudden silence, she said, “You’re the men who attacked Alex at the Rooster.”

  They pushed the door shut behind them, and the affronted anger in their faces was proof of the truth.

  Alex said, “You obviously know who I am, but I am at a loss as to why you’ve been pursuing me.”

  It seemed almost comic when the taller kidnapper pulled the hat from his head as he said, “I’m Kenneth Langston, and this is my brother Harold. Do you recognize our name, Thornton? Because you’ve dishonored it.”

  “Then I don’t owe you money?”

  The younger brother spat on the floor at Alex’s feet, while Kenneth said, “Money will not solve your problem. Our family’s honor is at risk, and we won’t allow that.”

  “Enough with the riddles and the stalking,” Alex said. “Just tell me what I’ve supposedly done.”

  “You have dishonored our innocent sister, and now you’re going to marry her.”

  Nausea swept through Emmeline, and she gripped the edge of the table until slivers pricked her fingers. She desperately wanted him to deny it.

  Instead, he asked, “What is your sister’s name?”

  “Elizabeth.”

  “Common enough,” he said with a shake of his head. “Gentlemen, since her face does not come to mind, I won’t know the truth until I see her.”

  Emmeline closed her eyes as disappointment suffused her. She’d thought his mistresses were willing and experienced. Surely he did not regularly seek to ruin maidens.

  Or had she imagined she was the only one, somehow special to him?

  She didn’t know what to believe anymore, only that she’d thought she could be the one to change him. Instead there was another girl out there who must have thought the same thing.

  The two brothers stepped forward menacingly. “You’re coming to Lincolnshire with us, to face our family and the law—and then our pastor.”

  “I think not,” Alex said lightly. “I’ll meet the girl in London.”

  “You’ve already met,” said Harold as his hand settled on the hilt of his sword.

  “I’m not convinced of that.”

  Alex widened his stance, blocking her from them. Then she heard the door slam open. She peered beneath Alex’s bent arm and saw Edmund Blackwell filling almost every bit of the doorframe.

  “Alex, you couldn’t share a meal with the common folk, now could—” He broke off when he saw their visitors.

  “Your sword!” Alex shouted.

  Emmeline was suddenly pushed into the corner. She turned to see Alex pull the knife from his boot as the Langston brothers drew their swords with a sharp scrape of metal on metal. The four men came together, then fell through the door and into the main taproom of the inn.

  With a cheer, four other patrons joined the fight that degenerated into a brawl. Emmeline stood in the doorway and clutched the frame, trying to keep Alex in her sight. When he finally came up for air, she heaved a sigh.

  Puzzled, he looked about him. “Edmund, where did the Langston brothers go?”

  Edmund shook two men off him and stood up. “I don’t know.”

  Somehow, in the confusion of the crowd, the Langstons had fled.

  Only after Edmund had handed over a substantial amount of money were they allowed to retire once more to their private dining chamber. Emmeline stared down at her food, but didn’t feel hungry anymore.

  “What are you doing here?” Alex asked, handing Edmund a tankard of cider. “I’ve wondered where you were—you’ve been gone almost a month.”

  “Did you even send a missive tracking me down?” Edmund asked darkly.

  “Well…I’ve been distracted.”

  Both men turned to look at her, and she glared at them.

  Edmund drained half his tankard, then rubbed his forehead. He looked tired for such a short fight.

  “I did successfully journey to Cumberland,” he began slowly. “In fact, I just paid the innkeeper with your money.”

  “So I assumed,” Alex said as he accepted a heavy pouch from his friend. “My thanks for this.”

  He reached into the pouch, then laid a few coins on the table before Emmeline.

  She stared from the coins to him in outrage. “What is this for?”

  “You paid for the meal,” he answered, giving her a befuddled look before he turned back to his friend. “Edmund, what have you been doing all this time?”

  Emmeline hugged herself and stared at the two men without caring what they said. Alex kept glancing at her, his face impassive, but she knew him well enough now to see the worry.

  Edmund looked down. “I took my time, I’ll admit. And then when I returned to London, Elizabeth would no longer see me.”

  Elizabeth? Emmeline thought.

  “Those men were the Langston brothers,” Edmund continued. “I re
cently started following them, though I did not connect them to you. Did they admit that they’re the ones who’ve been hounding you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did they tell you why?”

  “They said I’d seduced their sister Elizabeth, and that they were going to make me marry her.” He hesitated. “I knew immediately that they meant your Elizabeth, but I didn’t admit it. I would never implicate you.”

  Emmeline gaped at him, realizing how easily he’d lied to the Langstons.

  “Don’t you see, Alex, this wager has gone too far!” Edmund said.

  There was a horrible silence as she fought to understand their words. Wager?

  “Edmund—” Alex began.

  “They mistook you for me,” Edmund said heavily. He gave Emmeline an apologetic glance. “Forgive me for saying such crude things in front of you, Lady Emmeline, but you deserve to know what kind of man I am.” He glanced back at Alex. “I let it go too far. What was supposed to be a kiss ended in…seduction. What I don’t understand is why they think you’re me. If Elizabeth told them this much, why didn’t she explain it all?”

  Emmeline slumped down heavily in the chair, trying to work through her confusion. Shouldn’t she be relieved that the culprit wasn’t Alex? But how could she feel better, when he practically admitted it could have been him? And what was this wager that played with women’s lives?

  “I’ll insist that Elizabeth talk to me,” Edmund was saying. “She shouldn’t bear any dishonor for my actions.”

  “Are you ready to marry her?” Alex asked.

  “If that is what she wants.”

  Alex nodded, then turned to look at Emmeline intently. She returned his stare with a coolness that surprised her.

  “Edmund, would you mind waiting out in the taproom? Em and I need to talk.”

  Edmund bowed toward her but didn’t quite meet her eyes. Alex closed the door behind him and leaned back against it, watching her.

  When she didn’t speak, he said, “I don’t supposed you’re relieved to know it wasn’t I who compromised the girl?”

  She slowly stood up. “But it could have been, couldn’t it?”