A Midwinter's Scandal - A Novella Duet

by Erin Knightley

  Saying it out loud made it sound even worse. Had he really been so self-involved that he couldn’t be bothered to respond to his betrothed? Yes, he and his father had been on terrible terms, but she’d had nothing to do with that. Really, the likelihood that his father would have even known that he was corresponding with her was slim to none. The man simply wouldn’t have cared.

  “I . . . had no idea.” Her cheeks seemed to color before his eyes. Was she actually blushing?”

  “Does that distress you? I assumed you meant for me to read them, seeing as how you sent them to me.” He gave her a teasing little smile, which she returned with a distinctly embarrassed one of her own.

  “Well, when you put it like that, it does sound rather obvious that you would read them. But I supposed, since I never heard back from you, they were merely lining your dustbin or tossed in a drawer.”

  “Would you have preferred that?”

  She laughed. “I’m beginning to think so, yes. When I first started writing, I stuck to the usual subjects, but after a while, I think I used it as a sort of journal. I know I was posting them to you, but it felt like a diary after so many years of silence.”

  He lifted an eyebrow, amused by her clear embarrassment. “If that was a diary, you really must get out more. Talking the cook into an extra biscuit and pining for the chance to see the pyramids in person aren’t exactly deep, dark secrets.”

  Stifling a grin, she set her hands to her hips. “I thought not harboring deep, dark secrets was a good thing. Would you have been more enthused about the match if I had confessed to sneaking away unchaperoned and developing a taste for strong spirits?”

  He pursed his lips, pretending to consider the idea. “Now that you mention it, that does sound like an interesting woman.”

  She glared at him and he laughed, eliciting a look of interest from the butler as they approached the front door. Disapproval came off the man in waves, and by unspoken consent, they paused in their conversation as Sebastian collected his great coat and Juliette prepared for the outing.

  He waited until the door closed behind them before smiling at her. “You were a perfectly amenable fiancée, Juliette. Any man would be fortunate to marry you.”

  “Any man but you, you mean.” A hint of sadness seeped into the words, despite her attempt at levity. His heart gave a twinge of something close to empathy. Did she feel abandoned by his decision not to continue with their betrothal? Surely she realized what a poor match they made.

  “Please, don’t think that,” he said gently. “We were being shoehorned together from the beginning, and now you are free to pursue a husband who will make you happy. You and I both know that I am a dreadful candidate for marriage. Just look what a poor fiancé I was.”

  Wrinkling her nose, she said, “Yes, you were that.” It was said with an overly bright tone, as though she realized how her words may have come across. “Hopefully you’ll be a good companion, however, because it looks as though we are together for the short term, at least.”

  Smiling, he patted her hand. “I’ll do my best. Now then, to the museum?”

  Her grin was lovely, as though she hadn’t just revealed her insecurity. “To the museum.”

  He liked that grin. And today, he’d do whatever he could to make sure it didn’t fade. Placing his hand firmly over hers, he led the way.

  Chapter Seven

  Juliette had no idea what had possessed her to say the “any man but you” comment, but she was determined not to let something like that slip again. It was self-indulgent of her to have done so in the first place. Sebastian had been nice enough to let the subject drop, which made it easier for her to try and relax a bit.

  He’d brought a carriage this time, so they rode together on the cushioned bench, a warm blanket tucked about their legs while the top was pushed back for propriety’s sake. The air bit at her cheeks, but the rest of her was toasty warm with him by her side. And now, after alighting onto the pavement in front of the museum’s wide stone steps, she stayed tucked close to his side.

  For warmth, of course. At least that’s what she hoped he thought. In truth, it felt exceedingly nice to be so close to him. Even though she’d never ask, she hoped he felt the same way. He certainly didn’t try to move away, but that was no true indicator given their game of deception.

  “Shall we start with the special exhibit, or end with it?”

  She smiled. “I always save the best for last. Don’t you?”

  His grin was slightly wicked. “I’m generally a ‘dessert first’ type of person. Perhaps that’s why I hate formal dinner parties so much.”

  Laughing lightly, she shook her head. “Yes, of course. You aren’t the type to wait patiently.”

  “Patience is highly overrated,” he said with a nod.

  The air inside the museum wasn’t as warm as she hoped it might be, but it was still better than the air outside. Keeping their outerwear in place, Sebastian guided them toward the museum’s longstanding Greek statue exhibit, but moments later Juliette pulled at his arm. He turned to her with a lifted brow, and she smiled.

  “I agree.”

  “You agree?” he echoed, confused.

  “Yes, I agree. Patience is rather overrated.” She should know. Patience all these years had gained her nothing. “Let’s go to the Egyptian exhibit first. I could probably spend hours there anyway.”

  The warmth in his eyes brought a blush to her cheeks. She loved when he looked at her like that. It was as though he actually enjoyed her company. In fact, after their last few outings, she was starting to believe he did.

  “Ah, the lady is feeling adventurous today,” he said approvingly as he turned down the opposite corridor. Patrons were all around them, also outfitted in their outerwear and bundled together as they browsed the various exhibits. “That works in our favor, since I imagine that exhibit will be the most popular.”

  Ah, yes. She had almost forgotten their true purpose for spending the afternoon together. Someone had wanted them apart, and they wanted that someone to see them very much together. She began to pay attention to the people around them as they strolled through the cavernous building. It still baffled her that anyone would go to such trouble. Would a spurned lover of his resort to such tactics? The very thought heated her cheeks, but she forced herself to examine the possibility.

  She knew there were sure to have been mistresses and lovers in his past, and possibly his present. But there were also the many women who had vied for his attention during the Season. They had laughed and flirted and danced with him as though he were still a most eligible bachelor. Would one of those women have gone so far as to impersonate her?

  Possibly. But who would know her handwriting?

  She sighed and shook her head. She didn’t want to think about it right now. There would be time enough for that when Sebastian wasn’t at her side, looking for all the world like her beau.

  They paused in front of the first display, which featured life-sized cat statues that could only be described as regal. Sebastian tipped his head toward one that wore a broad gold collar and said, “I’ll never understand how they managed to get a cat to wear jewelry. I can’t even get my cats to acknowledge my existence.”

  She blinked up at him in surprise. “You have cats?” How had she never known this about him? She would never have taken him for an animal lover.

  “I do. Or rather, I think they have me.” He shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “They were my grandmother’s. Before she died six years ago, she implored me to take them, and I couldn’t refuse her dying wish. Little did I know the little devils would live so long.”

  “How long did you think they’d live?”

  “Well, they were already eight years old, so I thought they had maybe a year or two left.”

  A laugh escaped her before she could catch it. When he shot her a rueful look, she patted his arm. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh. I imagine that you now have a firm grasp of just ho
w long cats can live now.”

  “Indeed,” he said, self-deprecating humor coloring the word. “But I’ve grown used to them. It’s nice to have a bit of companionship, even if it’s from a pair of haughty felines who only come to me on their terms. Keeps a man humble.”

  “Oh, is that what you are?” she teased. She was actually surprised the bantering seemed so easy, especially with the looks they were garnering.

  “Couldn’t you tell? Truly, I’m the most humble earl I know.”

  Juliette grinned, still amused by the idea of him catering to a pair of middle-aged cats. “You really must acquaint yourself with more earls,” she said with a wink. “Back to your cats. What are their names?”

  He was silent for a few beats, chewing on the inside of his lip. She nudged him, and he sighed. “Mittens and Cuddles. Allow me to reiterate that they were named long before I had them.”

  There was no stifling her laughter this time. “I’m sorry,” she managed to say after a bit. “It’s just not what I would have expected.”

  He shook his head, seemingly oblivious to the many looks and stares aimed in their direction. “Laugh all you want, but I seem to recall you mentioning a dog by the name of Piggy.”

  “Ah, Piggy,” she said, putting her hand to her chest. The fattest, most spoiled spaniel ever to live. “I miss her terribly. She was such a sweet pup. I miss having a dog at all.”

  “Why not get one? There’s room enough in your townhome.”

  “Uncle Gregory is intolerant to animals in the house. Anything with fur makes him sneeze, which is probably half the reason he prefers London.” She suppressed a sigh. It was one of the reasons she had been looking forward to marriage. She’d had every hope that Sebastian would be amenable to allowing her to have a small companion dog. She bit her lip. How strange that she had been fully prepared to marry a man whom she didn’t even realize had cats. Honestly, she knew very little about him at all.

  They moved on to the next display. “Aren’t these just lovely?” she murmured, admiring the handful of medium- to large-sized pots and urns. It was amazing to her that they had survived so beautifully intact all these centuries. Many were more elaborate than the vases in her Uncle’s townhouse.

  As Sebastian leaned over to read the information placard, Juliette caught sight of a pair of women entering the gallery. Her brows furrowed as she recognized the raven-haired Miss Olivia Keaton, with her married sister. As Miss Keaton glanced about the gallery, her eyes landed with an almost audible thud on Sebastian.

  In the wake of her scandal, Juliette had somehow forgotten how Olivia had fawned over Sebastian. She was one of those women for whom flirting came alarmingly easily. She giggled and eyelash-fluttered her way through every ball, dinner, and party she attended. Early in the Season, she had set her sights on the only reasonably handsome unmarried earl around—unless one included Lord Dawson, who was going on fifty—and had set about finding herself by his side more often than not.

  Juliette had disliked the attention the beautiful brunette paid her betrothed, but had meekly kept her peace like the properly raised young woman she was. Back then, she’d been sure of her position as his future bride.

  Oh, how things had changed.

  On a whim, Juliette grabbed Sebastian’s hand. “Come, let’s go see the Rosetta Stone.” She tugged him along, and he followed with a somewhat baffled look on his face. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Olivia setting off after them, dragging her sister along with her. Juliette and Sebastian turned the corner into a small room filled with tribal-looking oddities that was empty of patrons.

  “Juliette, I don’t think it’s in here—”

  But she could hear the steady clip of Olivia’s boots just behind them. An idea came to her, so absurd that she almost dismissed it out of hand. But really, what did she have to lose? Better yet, what did she have to gain?

  Lifting onto her toes, she wrapped her arms around his neck and without another thought kissed him squarely on the lips.

  Chapter Eight

  Sebastian couldn’t have been more surprised if she had slapped him. He stood frozen for a moment, hardly able to believe that Juliette’s lips were pressed against his. They were soft and cool, and the faint scent of earth and greenery reminded him of spring mornings in the country.

  As the shock fell away, something else took over. Something much more elemental, and even more surprising. Desire. He slid his arm around her waist and pulled her against him. She gave a small gasp against his mouth, but didn’t lean away. In fact, she leaned into him. Her curves were soft and warm against his chest.

  Just as he started to open his mouth, he heard the distinct sound of footsteps, and quickly stepped back. He kept his grip on Juliette’s arms to hold her steady as they both adjusted to the sudden shift. Two women materialized in the doorway, both wide-eyed and blinking. His mouth tightened as he recognized them: Miss Keaton and Mrs. Preston.

  He exhaled a sharp breath, wanting nothing so much as for the women to leave them be so he could explore what the devil had just come over Juliette—and himself—but there was no point in causing a scene. He straightened his shoulders, trying to calm the hammering of his heart, before offering them a perfunctory nod. “Afternoon, ladies.”

  He couldn’t say whether or not they had witnessed the kiss or were just reacting to the hold he had on Juliette’s arms. He dropped his hands, but didn’t step any further away.

  Miss Keaton smiled boldly as she closed the distance between them. “Lord Haverstan. And Lady Juliette! What an unexpected pleasure to find you both here.” Even though she acknowledged Juliette’s presence, her eyes never left Sebastian. It was the way she’d acted around him every time they’d seen one another over the Season. She was marginally annoying, but it wasn’t enough to sound any alarm bells.

  “Miss Keaton, Mrs. Prescott,” Juliette said with a nod, her lips spread thin in a cool, well-practiced smile. “Decided to see the Egyptian exhibit as well, did you?”

  Miss Keaton’s dark lashes fluttered as she giggled. “Oh, I just adore the museum. You never know what you’ll find here. Or who,” she added coyly. “What about you, Lord Haverstan? See anything of interest today?”

  He knew innuendo when he heard it. Turning purposefully toward Juliette, he sighed and said, “I’m afraid we were so busy talking, we haven’t paid much attention to anything else. My apologies, Juliette. I do know how you adore the ancient Egyptians.” He sounded like a besotted idiot, but then again, that was the point.

  Juliette’s smile transitioned to something much sweeter. “Oh, think nothing of it. You are far more interesting than even the Rosetta Stone, I daresay.”

  Miss Keaton exchanged a glance with her sister before turning back to them. “Right. Well, enjoy your afternoon then. Lord Haverstan, do feel free to call anytime. You know how my father enjoys talking politics with a fellow peer.”

  After sending Juliette a look that was little more than the squinting of her eyes, she steered her sister away. Juliette watched them go, her lips pressed together. “I can’t say I have ever liked that woman.”

  But Sebastian had already dismissed the pair and had looped back around to the wholly unexpected—and not at all unpleasant—stolen kiss. It was so totally out of character for his former betrothed.

  “Pay them no mind,” he said, putting a hand beneath her elbow and leading her further into the room, and hopefully away from any possible prying ears. “What just happened here between us?”

  Here cheeks flushed pink, but she didn’t avoid the question. “Well, we are trying to draw out the culprit, are we not?”

  He blinked. What the devil did that have to do with anything? “Of course, but I fail to see the connection.”

  The only connection he was making right about then was between the two of them. He hadn’t expected the kiss, but he’d enjoyed it far more than he would have imagined. How did one go about getting such soft lips, anyway? They were like rose petals.

&nbs
p; “I’ve written invitations and thank-you notes for years on my uncle’s behalf. I’m certain I’ve penned several to Miss Keaton’s father. When I saw the way she was looking at you when she arrived, I couldn’t help but wonder if she was the one who had forged the letter.”

  “So you decided to antagonize her by kissing me?” Disappointment thudded in his stomach. Had she really only kissed him in order to get a reaction from Miss Keaton? But no, he shouldn’t be disappointed. It wasn’t as though he wanted Juliette to be enamored with him. Not at all. They were merely in search of the same thing: discovering who had wronged them both.

  Her flush deepened. “It wasn’t exactly a carefully planned tactic. I saw her, and the idea came to me.”

  Sebastian furrowed his brow and looked to the empty doorway through which the women had exited. “You don’t really think she could be the culprit, do you? Surely not.” The woman was simply another too-forward debutante, hoping to catch the eye of a titled bachelor.

  “Why not? She made no secret of her affection for you. She was forever finding reasons to talk with you last Season, and even managed to dance with you more than I did.”

  He tilted his head. That almost sounded like jealousy, something he’d never associated with his former betrothed. “I had no idea. Clearly her perceived machinations weren’t having their desired effect.”

  “Which might be a reason to do something more drastic, like perhaps tricking a groom into calling off the wedding?”

  Sebastian shrugged. “Possible, but not very likely.” He’d wager a fair amount that Miss Keaton was harmless.

  His dismissive response clearly annoyed Juliette. “And I suppose you have someone more likely in mind?”

  He pressed his lips together. Now was not the time to bring up his suspicious regarding her cousins. Especially since they were only that—suspicions. No facts, no evidence. Just a gut feeling.

  No, he wouldn’t risk upsetting her until he had absolute proof.