Invitation to Scandal

by Bronwen Evans

  “What are you trying to prove?” he asked.

  “You want me.”

  “I’m a man. Of course I want you. Any man would. Especially when you accost him like that.”

  She smiled and gave a laugh. “Then why did you stop?” He stood glaring at her. She pushed on, her smile vanishing. “You stopped because what you felt wasn’t purely lust and you don’t like it.”

  He snorted.

  “I’m right, aren’t I? A man simply consumed by lust, a man with no honor, would not have stopped until he’d thrown me to the ground and taken me.”

  “There is still time for that,” he said dryly.

  She nodded her head, studying their surroundings for a few seconds. Finally pointing she said, “Over here I think. The ground is dry and won’t mark my riding habit.”

  His mouth softened yet his eyes still burned hot. “You enjoy riding. You could always ride me. If you sit atop me you’ll not get one mark on your clothing.”

  She only just stopped her mouth from gaping open. Ride him? The idea intrigued her.

  His smile widened, and he stepped toward her and ran a finger down her cheek. “What? No witty reply.”

  She shivered and tried to ignore his arousing touch. “I agree. A much better idea. If anyone came upon us my skirt would hide our joining.”

  His voice came in a low whisper that sent her heart racing after her pulse. “If you were riding me you’d not notice any visitor, I promise you that. Shall I demonstrate?”

  Now it was Rheda’s turn to swallow. Before she could answer a man sauntered through the trees. Davidson, Meg’s brother.

  “Excuse me, Miss Kerrich. I have an urgent message from Meg.”

  Rufus’s eyes missed nothing. At the man’s approach, even Rheda’s freckles lost color as her face paled and she immediately began chewing her bottom lip. Her gaze swung back to him, and he could see fear in their green depths. Who was this man? And what was she afraid of?

  With a swift nod in the man’s direction she said to Rufus, “Please excuse me. It looks as if our—discussion—will have to wait until another day.”

  He took her hand on the pretence of kissing it, but he felt her pulse; it was hammering. Interesting. “I hope our pleasant—discourse—has not been stopped by an emergency.”

  She pulled her hand from his, her flirtation finished, and produced a snippet of a smile—rather a strained smile. “No. I’m sure it is purely a domestic matter,” she said, and made to leave.

  As she hurried on her way with the stranger whispering in her ear, Rufus called, “I look forward to our future riding lesson.” His baited sentence made no impact. Her concentration was honed on the man at her side.

  Rufus stood watching as they left, heading toward the cliffs and Jacob’s Point. He’d give them a few minutes before following them. The man was not one of Rheda’s servants, so who was he and what did he want with Rheda? Was he Dark Shadow’s messenger?

  He tapped his foot, waiting until he thought it safe to follow. He couldn’t tell if the buzz in his veins was excitement from anticipating a chance encounter with Dark Shadow or if it was the scent of Rheda still lingering in his nostrils. He absently pulled a rose off one of the bushes and put it to his nose. Rheda smelled infinitely sweeter, and her taste ...

  He dropped the rose in disgust and set off at a safe distance. It didn’t take him long to catch up with them. The discussion between Rheda and the man was animated. He was gesturing up the coast and pointing to the sky. Rheda giving as good as she was getting. Her hands were on her hips, and she was shaking her head. Hidden behind the bushes, he couldn’t quite catch what they were saying, their voices kept low.

  A few minutes later his patience was rewarded when the man suddenly threw up his arms and yelled. “It’s too bloody dangerous. Why won’t you listen to me?”

  Rheda swung her gaze along the cliff top, thankfully not pausing on where he remained crouched behind the foliage. “Shhhhh. Keep your voice down.” They continued the discussion in quieter tones.

  Rufus ignored the pain building in his cramping thighs and counted to ten. What should he do? Should he reveal himself and threaten this man, or remain hidden and follow him back to where he came from? If he had to force information from one of them, it would have to be the man. He knew he couldn’t physically hurt Rheda. Anything physical with Miss Kerrich would be of a more pleasurable nature.

  His annoyance made it difficult to remain still. He glanced sideways and was evaluating if he could make it to the tree on his right without being seen, when he saw the scruffy man give Rheda a piece of paper. She didn’t even read it, simply shoved it down her bodice.

  They separated and began to leave in opposite directions. Rufus tensed, frozen by indecision. He wanted to see what was in the note Rheda had tucked away, but the man leaving rather swiftly could lead him directly to Dark Shadow’s hiding place. Don’t be ridiculous. The man would have to be stupid to go directly back to his leader.

  Rufus made his decision and stood, striding after Rheda. He picked up his pace. She was heading back toward Hastingleigh. He gave her a wide berth and went around and ahead of her so as to make it look as if he’d intercepted her rather than followed her.

  As she approached the same rose garden where she’d issued her “riding” challenge, he stepped from behind a tree. “I’m happy to see you are in such a hurry to get back to me, my love.”

  Rheda took a big step backward, her hand going to her breast. “Rufus! You startled me.” She made to go around him, adding, “And I am not your love.”

  Rufus’s arm halted her progress, trapping her between him and a tree. “That certainly isn’t the welcome I was hoping for, nor expecting. Not after our last conversation. I was eager to pick up where we left off. I believe riding lessons of an intimate nature were the topic of conversation.”

  “Let me pass. I haven’t time for this.”

  “Why in such a hurry? Was the message he gave you of a dire nature?”

  He watched her throat move as she swallowed. “No, it was nothing of note.”

  The pair seemed to have had a very heated conversation for “nothing of note.” He stroked a finger down her cheek. He moved to stand in front of her, crowding her back against the tree. “I’ve been waiting with bated breath ever since you left. I hope you’re not about to disappoint me.”

  Her breath faltered, long lashes swept up, and her wide-eyed gaze clashed with his. She licked her lips, and his body inwardly groaned, demanding action. He leaned forward and kissed her. She resisted for all of a heartbeat before opening for him. He took immediate advantage, claiming her mouth with a sweep of his tongue.

  She didn’t want the kiss to end. Rheda pressed intimately against him, his body as hard as the tree at her back. She sunk into the kiss, dueling with his tongue, stroking the rough inside of his mouth as he stroked hers.

  A groan erupted from deep within his chest. His mouth on hers was warm and passionate, exploring her lips and molding them to his, tasting her thoroughly. The mutual tasting ignited a dangerous spark, and a fierce burn erupted between them.

  Why did she react like a wanton at the touch of this man? This forbidden desire struck as quick as lightning and engulfed her. She was a mature woman of twenty-five. Why should she feel guilty experiencing that which her younger brother experienced whenever he wanted? The guilt wasn’t over indulging in sins of the flesh; it was over who she was indulging with. This man could destroy all she and Daniel had built.

  Her brain turned to mush as his hands tightened on her breasts, and this time the moan she heard came from inside of her. There was a delicious sense of impropriety about his touch, a wicked wantonness that she entirely welcomed. Embraced.

  His hands continued to fondle and explore her breasts; his fingers stroked the sensitive exposed skin, dipping beneath her bodice. One finger swept her cleavage and found her hardened nipple. She sighed, wishing it was his hot, wet mouth at her breast.

  She fel
t him begin to undo the buttons of her riding habit. Yes, her body screamed. She wanted his mouth on her skin, her nipple in his mouth. With expert skill he had her jacket undone, and his nose was all but buried in her bosom; Rheda felt his warm breath on her skin, and she arched her back, wanting more.

  To her disappointment he pulled back. Somewhere within the turmoil of sensation a cool voice said, “Where is the note?” Rufus’s voice was strained, deeper than ever. “I saw him give it to you.”

  Her haze of heated desire cleared as if she’d been slapped. She pushed at his chest. “You are such a bastard.”

  He pushed her back against the rough bark. “And you, my dear, are playing a dangerous game. Don’t push me, Rheda. I am capable of anything to get what I want.”

  She turned her head away so he could not see the devastation in her eyes. He’d tricked her with seduction, and to her shame she’d fallen for it. Fallen as easily as any other woman to his touch, his caress, his looks ... She smacked her head back against the tree trunk. She of all women should know better.

  He flicked her chemise with a fingertip. “I do so love this habit of not wearing a corset,” he murmured. “It’s liberating. So, imagine my surprise to find the note is no longer where I saw you tuck it.” He reached and lightly squeezed one of her breasts. “They are plump enough to hold a note—so where have you hidden it?”

  She shook her head.

  He cursed. “I’m not letting you go until I read it,” he said, his jaw bunched tight. He leaned forward. “I wonder where on your person I’ll find it.”

  “The note is private. Why should I have to give it to you?” she added with more bravery than she felt. If he read the note ...

  “He hardly seemed the type to be your lover.”

  Rheda felt as if she should protest the slander, but she’d run out of words. She hated the gleam in his eye—victory. No words would help her now.

  She heard his breathy laughter and felt his hands lifting her skirts. She drew in a breath as she felt his hand brush lightly up her leg. She shivered in a combination of nervous fear and undiluted want.

  “I seem to remember doing this once before,” he murmured. “Legs of a gazelle ...”

  “You are despicable,” she managed to say with a dry throat. Her hands clenching into fists.

  His hands reached her bottom, and his touch turned impersonal, patting her undergarments, searching for the note as if she’d hidden it in her drawers. His hand moved toward her hips, and she knew that just a few inches higher and he’d find what he was looking for.

  Through the maelstrom of conflicting sensations—one was certainly desire, the other definitely fear—she heard voices. Self-preservation finally tipped the balance on her need to be courageous. “Stop. Somebody’s coming. You’ve searched me and found no note, now leave me alone.”

  Rufus looked down at his hands, hidden in the folds of her skirts, and he moved to cup her familiarly. A finger slipped in the open slit of her drawers and intimately stroked her moist folds. “Perhaps women can’t hide their lust as well as I thought. If we had time I’d ‘search’ you until you once again came apart in my arms.”

  “Never.” She squirmed, trapped between the tree and his body. The finger that had been stroking her, causing fire to spread deep into her belly, slipped inside her, and she moaned. “I think the lady doth protest too much.”

  Fury erupted within her, and she pushed at his arms. “How dare you?” she managed, her voice trembling as much as her limbs. Reaching to rebutton her jacket, she said, “That’s the last time you’ll ever lay a hand on my—”

  “In you, don’t you mean? And it is not my hand that longs to be in you.” There was something in his voice that her body reacted to. She grew wetter. “And I dare, Miss Kerrich,” he warned. “To get what I want I’m a man who dares anything.”

  She looked into his eyes, hard and glinting in the sun. She slid away from him. He caught her wrists, easily restraining her. She tried to tug free, but he was too strong. The muscles in his shoulders and arms bunched, and she knew with frustration that he was using only a minuscule portion of his real strength. He was holding back so as not to hurt her.

  “Fleur, I thought you said Lord Strathmore took Rheda for a stroll in the rose garden. Where are they?”

  Both of them tensed at the sound of Lady Hale’s voice.

  “This is not over.” His voice was a deep rumble as he slipped her arm through his and calmly turned to face Lady Hale and Lady Umbridge as they came into view.

  Her inner voice made her start with guilt, because instead of being afraid at the prospect of a very personal search from this handsome rake, she was looking forward to it—minus any incriminating evidence of her smuggling activity.

  Plastering a welcoming smile on her lips, she dug her fingernails deep into Rufus’s sleeve, hoping they pierced his skin. She felt the muscles in his forearm tighten, and only then did her shoulders relax. She could feel the rough paper of the note rubbing her back where she’d tucked it into the waistband of her skirts.

  Her confidence grew as the ladies approached.

  “There you two are.” Lady Hale’s eyes ran over Rheda, and a small frown formed. “I hope Rufus has been behaving.”

  With suave timing, Rufus bowed. “Ladies. Miss Kerrich had a slight fall. She tripped over some rocks near the cliffs’ edge. If not for my swift actions she could have fallen.”

  Helen rushed forward and pulled Rheda into an embrace, while Fleur rolled her eyes behind the older woman’s back. “Oh, my dear. No wonder you look so pale. Thank goodness you were in Rufus’s safe hands.” Fleur’s smirk deepened. “Come. Let’s get you a nice cup of tea. Katherine’s coming for your fitting in less than half an hour.” Turning to Rufus, she waved him away. “Haven’t you something better to do, Rufus? Find Stephen and Christopher. Shoo. Leave us ladies in peace.”

  Rheda smiled sweetly at her nemesis. She could see him struggling to hold on to his temper as she silently goaded him.

  “If you’d let me I’ll escort you home once you have finished here. I need to check on Caesar’s progress with your mares.”

  Fleur moved to his side and slipped her arm through his. “No need. The baron and his sister are staying for supper. Baron de Winter can escort his sister home.” Fleur moved close to Rufus and almost purred, “If you are at a loss for something to do, why don’t you escort me down to the beach. I love the lure of the sea.”

  Lady Hale’s mouth firmed at the obvious flirtatious display. “Perhaps Lord Worthington would like to join you, Lady Umbridge.” Dismissing the two of them, Lady Hale pulled Rheda toward the house. When they were out of Rufus’s hearing she muttered, “Damn that woman.”

  “Lady Hale!”

  “Sorry, my dear, but I want you to shine at this ball. If I can’t persuade you to marry my son, then I shall look elsewhere. I promised your mother I’d see you married and married well. How am I supposed to spark Rufus’s interest with a bitch in heat sniffing around him at every turn? It is bad enough she’s got Stephen wrapped around her little finger—but Rufus.”

  Rheda laughed. “I hardly think Rufus would allow himself to be wrapped around anyone’s finger.”

  Helen continued her path back to the house talking to Rheda over her shoulder. “Even though you are older than most debutantes, I forget how innocent you truly are. A woman of Lady Umbridge’s low moral fiber and dubious talents can make a man do almost anything.”

  “A rake of Rufus’s reputation hardly needs any encouragement to behave inappropriately. Why are you set on a match with him? If I were interested in marrying, which I am not,” she added hurriedly, “how can you possibly believe I’d look twice at a man of his character, given the life my mother led?”

  “That talk may work on your brother, but I know you, Rheda. I have seen you with Meg’s children.” Her voice softened. “The joy of holding your child in your arms is indescribable. Why do you think women are prepared to go through the pain of ch
ildbirth a second, third, or fourth time?”

  “Or die ...”

  There was a slight falter in Helen’s step. “Your mother loved you and longed for more children. She was aware of the price.” She smiled and said hesitatingly, “Like mother, like daughter, I believe. I know how you long for a child. Don’t forgo marriage based on your father’s example. A life alone is a solitary state. You’d shrivel up and die.”

  Rheda’s blood tingled with icy feeling. “I have Daniel.” Over the past twelve months she’d tried so hard to believe the lie she’d just spoken. Only now was she facing the truth that a life without a husband would almost certainly mean a life with no children. She’d not been prepared for the depth of her disappointment. She’d not understood how much of a sacrifice remaining childless would be. Some days it felt as if she was missing a limb. The pain was so overwhelming she’d even contemplated the concept of finding a “good” man to marry.

  Only she knew they were as rare as gold doubloons. Lady Hale stopped and swung to face her, studying her silently. “Daniel will create a family of his own. He will move on with his life. Don’t leave it until too late. Don’t live your life alone. It will eat at your soul.” She turned to continue walking. “With the right man you could lead a very contented life. A rich, full life.”

  Rheda could not have felt more shocked if Lady Hale had suddenly sprouted a second head. “Lord Strathmore is most certainly not the right man.”

  “There is more to Rufus than meets the eye.” The older woman glanced over her shoulder and broke into a huge grin and winked. “Although what meets the eye is certainly desirable.”

  It was not the sun making her face hot. “On a cold day a fire is very inviting, but when you get too close—”

  “I’m disappointed in you. You of all people should know better. Not all gossip is to be believed.”