by Shayla Black
“Lord Vance,” whispered the baron’s son as he grabbed his brandy glass. “I’ve heard some tantalizing gossip about you and a certain Miss Melbourne. Is it true? Please tell me. Is she as wanton as the whispers say?”
Pulled from his thoughts by the sound of Kira’s name, Gavin held in a curse. So much for discretion. While he wanted to know about the woman and her scandal, he certainly didn’t wish to spread more gossip in case James’s engagement to her did become public—or worse, his cousin actually married her. The family would only have to live it down later.
“Lord Vance, are we not here to play cards? What of your hand?” Gavin tried to change the subject.
“I’m out.” With a flash of lace at his wrists, the nobleman threw his cards on the table. Then he slapped a salacious smile on his young face and pushed a rogue lock of sandy hair from his forehead. “Miss Melbourne is as wanton as they say and more, a veritable goddess of sex.”
“Sir, what is in your hand?” Gavin asked of the other man.
The baron’s son never even looked in his direction. “The pot is yours, your grace.”
Splendid. He’d won a jackpot he did not deserve with a hand he ordinarily would not have played. Such a lack of interest in money or cards did not bode well for a change in subject.
Fuming, he silently raked in the pot. Now what?
The young baron’s son leaned across the round table, closer to Vance, his smile lewd. “I have heard Miss Melbourne is pretty.”
“Uncommonly so,” Vance assured his audience.
“She was…accommodating?” asked the young man.
“Accommodating?” his lordship scoffed. “She was insatiable. I collapsed with exhaustion after a night of tupping her senseless. The last thing I recall was her cry of satisfaction. Yet I awoke near dawn with her astride me, my cock shoved deep inside her. She rode me again until well past breakfast. And that was merely the first day of our acquaintance.”
Gavin winced. While he had little reason to doubt Vance, to hear the thing put so bluntly did not please him.
Worse, Vance’s words painted a mental picture that inflamed Gavin. He drew in a sharp breath, forcing his thoughts away from Miss Melbourne.
“Same game, gentlemen?” Gavin asked, praying they took the misdirection.
They both ignored him.
“She sounds voracious,” said the baron’s son in tones of hushed reverence. “So you tupped her again?”
Lord Vance’s grin widened to reveal white teeth and a man used to wielding his charm. “Every chance I had. I have never been so exhausted after two days in bed!”
Arousal flushed the baron’s son’s face. He couldn’t be more than twenty, and he looked as if he might succumb to an orgasm brought on by nothing more than Vance’s suggestive conversation.
“I want to hear all about her,” he breathed.
In truth, Gavin wanted to hear as well. Though he had suspected Miss Melbourne’s lascivious nature from the moment of their introduction—such a face could only inspire carnal thoughts—he wanted to know precisely how inappropriate she was for James.
And though he knew he shouldn’t, Gavin also wondered how wickedly satisfying she could be for himself.
Vance groaned. “Oh, she has the most incredible breasts, very responsive to a man’s touch. I had only to flick a thumb across them so I might watch them distend and swell. Ah, and her slender waist is only emphasized by the perfect curve of her hips. Such long legs.” He sighed in fond remembrance. “Legs long enough to wrap around a man and then some. Legs she eagerly spread at my slightest whim.”
“Yes, and what else?” the younger man prompted, salivating.
“She has the most exotic little birthmark on her hipbone.” Vance pointed to the left side of his body. “It’s shaped nearly like a heart. It tends to draw the eye down, to where a man wants to plant himself in the tight sheath.”
The two younger men guffawed.
Gavin clenched his jaw. He wished Vance was less descriptive, both for Kira’s benefit, as well as his own. Against his will, Gavin pictured her naked and felt his body responding.
“Best of all,” Lord Vance leaned in and whispered, “When you get her on her knees, she has the most talented mouth—”
“Are we to play cards or not?” Gavin interrupted with a voice of steel. He’d heard enough—and more.
They turned to him with identically stunned expressions. Vance had the good grace to look a bit sheepish.
“Of course. Can’t blame a man for wanting to reminisce about such pleasure, can you?”
Gavin shuffled the cards and began to deal. “Any woman you find so pleasing you should consider wedding, particularly one who was an innocent.”
Lord Vance recoiled. “Marry a half-Persian whore? She’s all well and good for a tumble, but really… Miss Melbourne is no more innocent than any of us here, I daresay.”
Gavin stared at the young rake, at odds with himself. On the one hand, Vance likely told the truth about Kira Melbourne; she probably had opened her thighs for him and others before. And though the information disturbed him, she likely deserved her despicable reputation. But he did not believe any woman deserved to be gossiped about with such blatant disrespect. Clearly, though, Vance did not care how badly anyone thought of Miss Melbourne.
The distasteful observation aside, Gavin knew he must prove Vance’s salacious claim—somehow—then present his proof to James posthaste, so the boy might act appropriately. Otherwise, scandal would engulf his family again, and equally distressing, Gavin would continue to suffer this peculiar lust for a woman who was, for him, strictly forbidden.
* * * *
“You’re looking out of sorts.”
Unsure how to reply to her observation, Gavin turned to the woman at his side, Cordelia Darrow, Dowager Countess of Litchfield.
After a moment’s thought, he settled for evasion and sent her a fond smile. “I am merely tired.”
He and Cordelia made their way through an elegant ballroom framed by gold brocade drapes. White plaster arches abounded with dancing cherubs while pungent flowers mixed with perfume to fill the humid air. The vast room was decorated by the gathering of London’s finest, the ladies swathed in every conceivable color.
Gavin sensed all eyes upon him and Cordelia. Seemingly oblivious, she rested her hand in the crook of his arm and cast a blue-eyed gaze of skepticism his way.
With her pale blonde hair arranged tastefully atop her head and her elegant blue lace-trimmed gown draping her tall frame, Cordelia looked cool and regal—but then, she always did. It was one of the many reasons Gavin admired her. A wealthy widow at a mere twenty-four, Cordelia was the ton’s most popular hostess and a mark for unmarried men, rich and poor alike.
He and Cordelia would marry someday. Everyone assumed so, even Gavin himself. While he disliked her penchant for gossip, Cordelia was, in every other way, perfect for him—well bred, well liked, clever, a friend even, though he’d never considered a female thus before. She understood that marriage was a business arrangement. Between seeing to his sisters’ futures and being a partner in a new railroad, he simply had not had the time to propose properly. But he would.
“Tired, are you?” Cordelia’s eyes danced with mischief. “Well, playing cards with Lord Vance until very nearly dawn would exhaust anyone.”
He turned to her with a sardonic smile. While Gavin had expected her to learn of the incident eventually, he’d thought it would take a bit more than eighteen hours.
Cordelia answered him with a tinkling laugh. “Don’t be put out with me, Gavin. And before you ask, I have my ways of learning these things. I take it he gave you—and anyone who would listen long enough—an earful about the scandalous Miss Melbourne.”
Gavin tread carefully. No one beyond the family knew yet of James’s unfortunate, and hopefully temporary, engagement. If Cordelia learned of it, he feared that London would be abuzz by morning. He wanted to delay the news until he could decide how to han
dle the disreputable beauty.
“I heard a bit more than I wanted, yes.”
But it was more than enough to keep him awake last night, spinning fantasies of Kira Melbourne naked, nipples swollen, cheeks flushed with arousal, legs splayed wide, writhing in his bed. As he had done more than once last night, he ruthlessly shoved the thought away.
“But you wanted to hear some of the gossip?” She sent him a measuring glance. “It rather looks like you sought out Lord Vance for his…conversation. Why else would you suddenly frequent his regular club, which seems a mere step up from a common ale house?”
He should have been prepared for the question, but did not have a credible answer.
“A whim.” He shrugged.
Cordelia regarded him with a dubious stare before she turned her face to the crowd again, wearing a half smile. “You never indulge in whims. Since you have no mistress at the moment, am I to assume you’re hungry for some lurid tales?”
Gavin barely held in his sigh. Cordelia could be frightfully direct—and very cheeky. When no one could overhear, she enjoyed poking fun at his proper deportment. Thankfully, the approach of his cousin Lady Madeline and her husband, Mr. Brock Taylor, Gavin’s partner in the T & S railroad, saved him from responding to Cordelia’s outrageous question.
“Cousin Gavin, hello.” Maddie smiled, auburn hair gleaming in the candlelight. She turned to Cordelia. “Lady Litchfield, good to see you, as always.”
“Lady Madeline,” Cordelia returned.
She cast her cool gaze to Brock. Gavin watched as she contemplated the former servant turned wealthy businessman. Though she did like Brock, Cordelia had confessed, Gavin knew she enjoyed her social power. Perfectly dressed in evening black and well composed as always, Brock waited with a knowing smile. She would recognize him; these days she always did, but when she wished to do so.
“And Mr. Taylor.” Cordelia held out her gloved hand. Brock took her fingers and bowed over them, all politeness. “How is my investment?”
“Splendid, my lady.” Brock turned to Gavin, clearly ready to discuss business. “I’ve good news to give all the investors we invited here tonight. We’re set to open on May thirtieth, nearly seven weeks ahead of schedule, not to mention eight thousand pounds under budget. Consider this gathering an official celebration!”
Gavin had known Brock was brilliant in business but even this exceeded his expectations. “Everything is in place?”
“All but a few finishing touches. Maddie and I will be visiting each of the hotels along the route to make sure they are up to standard.” He turned to Cordelia. “Naturally, we would like your good opinion, as well.”
Likely Brock wanted Cordelia so entranced by the establishments that she would tell all of the ton. Gavin smiled at his partner’s clever tactic.
Inside, Cordelia was undoubtedly pleased, but she merely answered with a gracious incline of her head. “As an investor, I shall happily do so.”
“I will have my man of business send you the details.”
Brock then turned to Gavin. “If you will excuse us, ladies. We have a bit more business to discuss.”
“Seek your entertainments and we will join you soon,” Gavin added, assuming Brock, in the usual fashion, wished to speak more about their joint venture, his labor of love.
Cordelia glanced at Gavin, a pale brow raised in challenge. “Perhaps I shall dance with Lord Toth in your absence.”
Lord Toth had been chasing Cordelia since the day she ceased officially mourning her husband two years past. Titled and eligible, Toth made no secret of the fact he wanted to marry Cordelia. And Gavin knew she enjoyed taunting him with the fact. It should have bothered him, he supposed.
“In the event he should persuade you to run to Gretna with him tonight, I offer my congratulations now,” he teased.
Cordelia’s mouth compressed into a thin line, but he saw her hiding a smile. “You are not very gallant.”
“And yet you still like me. Does your tolerance know no bounds?”
“I fear I’ve just reached them.” Cordelia laughed at his jesting. “Go. I shall see you soon.”
As the ladies wandered off, Gavin watched fondly. Then an acquaintance of Cordelia’s, Lord Darehurst, put himself directly in her path, where she would be hard-pressed not to acknowledge him. She stopped, raised her gaze a sizable distance to meet the strapping young earl’s stare. After a curt nod, she moved on. Darehurst stopped her by bringing her gloved hand to his lips. She pulled away, and Gavin frowned. What did Cordelia have against Darehurst? She was forever avoiding the man, despite the fact she’d known him most of her life.
Brock tapped Gavin on the shoulder, and he turned to see his friend’s expectant expression. He shrugged sheepishly.
“I’m sorry. You wanted to speak to me. Has something else come about with the railroad?”
Brock shook his head. “No, it’s as I said—all ready to go. I merely wondered about you. You look as if something is amiss. Is all well with James and your aunt? With your sisters?”
Casting a considering glance at Brock, Gavin regarded the man, his friend now. Over the course of planning and building a railroad, Gavin had learned to trust Brock more than any other man, despite a contentious start to their acquaintance.
“They are all in good health.” That much was true, at least.
“Then it must be a woman.”
Gavin snapped his gaze back to Brock. “Why do you say that?”
A wide grin split Brock’s face. “Every man who’s ever had difficulty with a woman knows the expression. Ask Lady Litchfield to marry you. I believe she’s been awaiting your proposal for some time. She turned down three others, including Lord Toth’s, just last week. And Darehurst looks as if he’d like to swallow her whole.”
Gavin glanced over his shoulder to see that the earl continued to follow her, flashing the seductive smile for which he was known in every ballroom and nearly as many bedrooms. While the sight surprised Gavin, it did not alarm him. Cordelia was admired wherever she went. Of course other men would have designs on her, particularly fortune hunters like Toth and lotharios like Darehurst.
“Cordelia is not partial to Toth, and Darehurst has made it clear he will never marry again. They are really no threat to me. I will most likely propose to her once the railroad has launched. And she has given me every indication that she will accept.”
Brock grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing servant carrying a full tray. Gavin followed suit.
“So…Lady Litchfield isn’t the woman on your mind.”
Gavin hesitated, then decided if he wanted answers, he would have to make inquiries. And Brock was discreet in everything. Before they’d wed, Brock had been sharing Maddie’s bed for some years without a single whisper of it surfacing. The man could keep a secret.
“I take it you’ve heard of the scandalous Miss Melbourne,” Gavin said finally.
“Who hasn’t?” He punctuated his rhetorical question with an ironic smile.
“To my dismay, you are right,” Gavin drawled.
“Have you met her?” Brock’s gaze questioned him.
“Have you?”
“Yes, but some months ago. Before the scandal.”
Slowly, Gavin nodded. “What was your opinion?”
“We were not introduced…but she was hard to miss. You know I love your cousin more than any sane man should love his wife, but I confess, Miss Melbourne was stunning.”
Gavin agreed completely, much to his regret.
“Did you meet her here in London recently?” Brock asked.
He wished it were that simple. “She’s staying at Norfield Park. I only quit her company five days past.”
“Have you taken her as a mistress?” Astonishment blanketed Brock’s face.
“No. My cousin James thinks to marry her.”
Though he spoke quietly, Gavin looked about to make certain no one had overheard. Thank goodness the orchestra was loud tonight, the violins singing their l
ilting, measured tunes.
Brock looked like he was about to choke. “Marry her? But the scandal…”
“Exactly. I have little doubt everything Lord Vance says about her is true—”
“Perhaps.” He shrugged. “Perhaps not.”
Something like hope jumped inside Gavin. Did he want Kira Melbourne to be innocent? Why? Certainly her chastity—or lack of it—was of no consequence to him. No, if he wished her innocent, he wanted it thus for James’s sake. No other reasonable explanation existed.
“She disappeared with Vance for two days,” Gavin argued. “After such a shocking occurrence, how could she be anything less than shameless, as he claims?”
“I cannot refute her… unusual absence, but there are several things about Lord Vance that make one curious.” Brock’s voice dropped another notch. “Did you know he was near penniless three years ago? Yes,” Brock assured at Gavin’s shocked expression. “Now suddenly he’s more than ‘comfortable.’ I tried for months to learn what investments he’d made to pull him from ruination to wealth, but could find nothing, not here, not on the Continent.”
That was serious, indeed. Brock knew everything about every investment. He knew how every newly wealthy family had made their money and how those in the ton had rebuilt fortunes. Brock made it his business to know. But his lack of knowledge about Vance had nothing to do with Miss Melbourne.
Gavin swallowed his champagne, then frowned at Brock. “What are you saying?”
“I still have contacts in low places. From them, I hear whispers that his money comes from unsavory sources. I have no specifics, but if the speculation is true, perhaps he is not all trustworthy. It is possible that Miss Melbourne eloped with him in good faith, not knowing him well.”
While both interesting and suspicious, Brock’s information proved nothing. If his friend’s theory was true, Lord Vance could certainly be counted among the worst of cads. Then again, if the rake had duped Miss Melbourne into believing he meant to marry her, wouldn’t she be crying foul to anyone who would listen?
Gavin sighed. “Even if you’re right, that hardly repairs the damage to her reputation.”
“Then consider this: one of his slum-dwelling associates hinted that Vance’s… interest is not typically in members of Miss Melbourne’s gender.”
