by Gayle Callen
He leaned down to kiss her mouth. “Do I taste angry?” He took her hand and brought it to his hard penis. “Do I feel angry?”
Wearing an intrigued expression, she explored him with her hands. He allowed it, though her every touch made him want to thrust inside her, as if they hadn’t just shaken the bed with their lovemaking.
Keeping a tight hold on him, she glanced at his face. “Am I allowed to kiss you as you’ve kissed me?”
He stared at her, and desire blotted out his every rational thought. “Do anything you please,” he said hoarsely.
She pushed herself up onto her knees and sat back to look at him. Though her blush never diminished, she explored his body with hands soft as silk. She pressed delicate kisses along his chest and thighs, and her hair trailed after her in an erotic wake. She lingered above his hips and looked up at him.
“May I do anything here?”
He sucked in a breath and could only nod. How had he ever imagined innocence to be boring? Then she took him into her mouth and a moan escaped him. He lasted only a minute before he pulled her knee across to straddle him.
“Alex?”
“Just hold on.”
He thrust up inside her, and she threw her head back and smiled, catching onto the motion quickly. Her breasts were like ripe fruit that he eagerly captured. He reached between her legs to stroke her, and it was only moments before they both climaxed again.
She fell down shuddering against his chest. He rolled her to the side and held her and was glad that in only two days’ time he’d never have to leave her bed.
He kissed her cheek, and she smiled, but didn’t open her eyes. “I must go,” he whispered, nibbling her lower lip.
“Hmmm.”
He looked at her—sweet and warm and soon to be his wife. He tucked the blankets around her, wondering if tonight they’d made a babe, and trying to imagine himself a father.
It was a strange feeling, one that made him want to distance himself from the overwhelming nature of it. Emmeline opened her eyes and looked up at him, and he said the first stupid thing that came to mind.
“Well, if we have to marry, at least now there’s a reason for it.”
She blinked at him, and he cursed himself for a fool and got out of bed before he made it worse. She never said another word, even when he stood on the windowsill and blew her a kiss good-bye.
Emmeline spent a restless night. Oh, she didn’t worry about Alex’s foolish words, because she knew he didn’t mean them. She even found it reassuring that their lovemaking meant so much to him that he had to joke about it to cover his feelings.
But all the next day, she pondered her unease, even while she chose one of her newer gowns as her wedding garment. The servants bustled about her, preparing a feast, though her father hadn’t ordered one. They were thrilled for her, and Emmeline was touched.
But something was wrong. On the drive to the church the following morning, she felt nauseated and shaky, and altogether unlike herself. Had she made a dreadful mistake, manipulating Alex’s life just as her father had manipulated hers?
They arrived at the church and Humphrey, her beloved coachman, opened the door and beamed up at her, prouder than her own father, who sat silently at her side with his face turned away. She looked up to see Alex waiting at the church door, resplendent in gold and white garments that glittered in the sun.
And Emmeline couldn’t do it. She wouldn’t force him to marry her. She ignored Humphrey’s hand, jumped out of the coach and started to run. It was the only thing she could think of to make Alex declare himself. Panic engulfed her, and she wondered if she’d just made the worst decision of her life. Would he follow her?
Alex felt utterly ridiculous gaping at Emmeline as she ran down the street. Her lovely peach gown rippled behind her feet. He heard his mother’s horrified gasp, saw Spencer shaking his head in sympathy. For a moment, all he could think was how this had happened to his brother—how could it happen to him, too?
“Emmeline!” he yelled, setting off after her. “Damnit, I even wrote a poem for the ceremony! You have to come back!”
He dodged people on the street, ignored the jeers and the shouts. He heard a coach behind him and looked over his shoulder to see Humphrey determinedly following him.
The more Emmeline ran, the more heartsick he felt. A bitter darkness would enshroud his life without her in it.
He put on a burst of speed, and caught her by the elbow; she whirled toward him. He expected to see remorse on her face, but instead she looked wide-eyed and hopeful. He saw the crowd they’d drawn, saw Humphrey practically vault from the driver’s box to hold the coach door open.
He took her by the shoulders.
“Em, what are you doing? Don’t you want to marry me?”
Amazingly, she smiled. “Of course I do. You’ve changed me in so many ways, helped me to realize that I have a life just as valuable as Blythe’s or anyone else’s. I deserve happiness, just as you do. And we can be happy with one another, I know it. But I need more. I love you, Alex.”
She took a deep breath, and her smile became almost blinding in its soft beauty as she gazed up at him with luminous, shining eyes. He was speechless at the magnitude of what he felt for her, the relief and joy of knowing that she wanted to be married to him.
Suddenly, Emmeline put her hands on her hips and frowned up at him. “Well?”
And he knew then that he could no longer lie to her or himself. He loved her—how could he not have known it? Why had he been a coward by not announcing it to the whole world?
He took her face in his hands and smiled down at her. “I love you, Em.”
A resounding cheer rose up around them.
“You are everything that is brave and good,” he continued, using his thumb to wipe the tear that fell from her eye. “You stood up to your father for me, something I still find amazing. You would help anyone—your sister, Max, even me, though I little deserve it. Long ago something inside me changed, made me think the kind of man I was wasn’t as important as the power and wealth I lacked. Every woman before you only confirmed this in my eyes. For it was the money they wanted, not me.”
She pressed herself against him, hugging him around the waist.
“I thought only power counted,” he said. “Did I tell you I was just elected to the House of Commons?”
“Oh, Alex, how wonderful!”
“But don’t you see, it doesn’t matter! I’m the same man, regardless of what I do. I’ve found myself again by loving you.”
She pulled his head down and kissed him. “Alex, you’re not saying you’ll refuse the appointment, are you?”
“Well, of course not.” He grinned. “I just hope I can sometimes keep my mind on business, and not always on you.”
“Don’t change, Alex,” she whispered. “But let’s make our scandals smaller from now on.”
With a laugh, he swung her up in his arms, and into the waiting coach. As it rolled down the street, they leaned out the windows and waved to the excited crowd that followed them.
When they pulled up to the church they were still hanging from the coach indecorously, and the reception of some of the nobility was a trifle cool.
But Alex didn’t care. He was in a hurry to marry the woman he loved, to begin their life together. He lifted her out of the coach and carried her all the way up the stairs, while she clung to his shoulders and laughed. At the top, he saw Spencer grinning, and his mother tearfully blowing her nose in a handkerchief.
Emmeline tugged on his hand. “So Alex, once we’re married, can I see the naked statue of you?”
He almost stumbled as he laughed. It would be a good life.
Epilogue
The wedding feast was an event Emmeline would never forget. Crowds of people were waiting for them at Kent Hall. She was touched that so many wished them well. Two of her three brothers had even reached London in time.
But Edmund found her and Alex first, and they drew him aside.
> “What happened with the Langstons?” Alex asked.
Edmund shrugged. “I will follow you to the altar in a week. I can only hope that someday we can be as happy as the two of you are.”
Alex frowned. “Edmund—”
Edmund laughed and stepped away. “This is your day—enjoy it! Congratulations to both of you.”
“Emmy!”
Emmeline whirled about to see Blythe running toward her, dragging Maxwell behind her. The two sisters embraced.
“I missed the ceremony,” Blythe said, pulling back to smile into Emmeline’s face, “but I’m so glad I’m here for the celebration—and there’s so much to celebrate!” She looped her arm through Maxwell’s and pulled him up to her side. “We’re married! Maxwell had the banns read in his home parish without telling me!”
Emmeline gaped at her sister, and saw Alex unsuccessfully hiding a smile. Maxwell blushed, but withstood her stare with a new pride.
“Isn’t this what you wanted?” Blythe asked.
“Oh, dearest, please tell me this is not because of my manipulations. Can you forgive me?”
“Only if you can forgive me for manipulating you.”
“What do you mean?”
Blythe smiled up at Maxwell, and the love in their eyes made Emmeline feel at peace.
“I suspected almost from the beginning that you and Alex were meant for each other,” Blythe said. “So I made sure he stayed around enough to find out.” She clasped Emmeline’s hands. “Oh Emmy, you are the bravest person I know. Where I ran away to marry, you stood up to Father and made it happen. Now it’s my turn to be brave. It’s time to go tell Father.”
Emmeline stared after her sister for a moment, wondering how her father would take another daughter’s disobedience, but deciding it didn’t matter. She looked up into her husband’s eyes. “I was never that courageous at her age.”
“It’s a good thing, too,” Alex said, leaning down to kiss her nose. “Otherwise you’d be married to the tutor turned pig farmer.”
“I did marry a pig farmer, or so you’ve told me.”
“Pig farmer or member of Parliament—does it matter?” he asked, demolishing her with that wicked grin she so loved.
“I don’t care what you do, Alex, as long as you do it with me.”
He slung an arm around her shoulders and began pulling her through the crowd. “Is that an invitation?”
“Alex!” she cried, feeling a flush blaze across her face, even as she watched the laughter of her family and friends.
“They won’t miss us. We can come back later.”
And then Alex was kissing her, and promising his love forever. “I’ve begun a new poem, Em. It’s called ’The Marriage of Emmeline.’ Let’s start on the first stanza.”
“Alex, please, no more poems!”
About the Author
There have always been people running around in my head, so I started writing when I was thirteen years old and never stopped. I loved creating whole other worlds for my friends to read about—and that’s still what motivates me today.
I live in central New York with my wonderful husband, Jim, my three children, and various salamanders and gerbils. I spend a lot of time cheering on my children at soccer games, lacrosse games, and crew meets. Besides writing, I love to read, sing, and delve too deeply into historical research. Come visit my website at www.gaylecallen.com.
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Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
HIS SCANDAL. Copyright © 2002 by Gayle Kloecker Callen. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Microsoft Reader April 2009 ISBN 978-0-06-194481-9
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