Scandalous Scoundrels

by Aileen Fish

“I do not find it humorous.” Henry fanned out his cards. Perhaps coming to the gaming room had not been a good idea.

  A servant offered him a snifter of port.

  Henry took it, grateful for the numbing effect he knew it would have. He slid his wager into the center of the table before taking a long sip of the liquor. He spent the remainder of the game focusing on his cards and doing his level best to ignore the gentlemen around the table.

  Two hands later, Henry stood, excusing himself. He made his way down the maze of halls and back into the ballroom. His set with Sarah would begin soon. He wondered how Luvington would have reacted if Keery’s jesting had been aimed at Sarah. Not well at all, he wagered. Sarah came into view and he moved to stand before her. “Lady Luvington.” He bowed. “I believe the next set is ours.”

  “Indeed.” She flashed a smile from behind her fan before she closed it and took his arm.

  He led her toward the edge of the dance floor to await their set. “How was your trip to Scotland?”

  “Wonderful. It is a beautiful country and I enjoyed catching up with Amelia.”

  Yes, the Duchess of Goldstone. He had once fancied himself in love with Amelia. What a fool. He had not even known what it meant to be in love back then. Thank Heaven the good Lord saw fit to bring Goldstone into her life and shut Henry out. Had things worked differently, he may never have met Claudia. “How does Her Grace fare?”

  “Very well. Scotland suits her and she could not be more in love with the duke. The two of them are quite happy together.” Sarah slanted a glance at him. “I am more interested in how you fare.”

  The quartet played the final notes of the country dance and Henry led Sarah onto the dance floor. “I am well.”

  “I was not referring to your health. How are you and Lady Akford getting on?”

  Henry took Sarah’s hand. “She is an enchanting woman. I would like to marry her.”

  “Then it is serious. Have you made your intentions known?”

  “Yes.”

  The dance separated them before more could be said. Henry stood in his spot working to keep his composure as Sarah stared at him. Dare he confide the truth? They were close friends, but she was still a lady. He swallowed hard in preparation for her next question as the dance brought them back together.

  “Have you formally proposed?”

  He looked around at the other dancers, not sure how much to reveal to her. “I attempted to.”

  “What happened?”

  He twirled her before responding. “She stopped me.”

  “Whatever for? The whole ton is talking about your courtship. Rumor has it the two of you are getting on charmingly. Everyone expects a wedding.”

  “She is not ready to wed again.” He clenched his jaw, hoping she would accept the simple answer. There was no way he could assault her gentility with the full answer to his predicament.

  “Not ready?”

  Her words echoed through his mind. He nodded confirmation, unable to find his voice.

  “Then you must be patient. She will come around.”

  Henry could not stop his smile. Of all the people he knew, Sarah was the one he feared would not approve. She had every reason to dislike Claudia, yet she championed the match. “Thank you.”

  Her eyes twinkled. “No thanks are needed.”

  ***

  Claudia found her way to the library and positioned herself on a sofa. Dark shadows filled the room, but she did not dare light a candle lest she draw attention to her presence. Her feet ached from the hours of dancing. She removed her slippers, hiked her skirts up, and began massaging one of her feet.

  Henry should be joining her in about ten minutes. Her stomach fluttered with expectation. The last few days with him had been nothing short of marvelous. She desperately wished for their courtship to last forever and their nighttime meetings to progress into a love affair. Still, she knew it would all come to end at some point. It had to.

  She failed to take notice of Henry entering the library. He lowered to his knees before her, startling her. She removed her hands from her foot and smoothed her skirts.

  “Allow me.” He reached for her foot and began smoothing his thumbs across the arch.

  She leaned back, enjoying his soothing touch. Need coiled in her belly as he reached for her other foot. “That is heavenly.” She sighed.

  He moved to her calf. “I do not imagine you attended many balls while living in Lancashire?”

  “I did not.” A shiver galloped down her spin. Akford had forbidden the activity early on in their marriage. Her first beating from him had resulted from the last ball they attended. She shoved the memory away and focused on the delicious feel of Henry’s hands on her leg.

  “I will have to massage your feet and legs again tomorrow evening. I fear we shall not have time this night and any good I have done will be undone once you leave the library.”

  She sat up and reached for him. “Then let us make the most of our stolen time.”

  He looked up and their lips met in a hungry kiss. She slid to the edge of the sofa and wrapped her legs around his waist as he slanted his mouth across hers. She deepened the kiss, sliding her tongue into his mouth, desperate to take what he offered.

  He met her movements with his own, heating her blood to new levels. When she moaned against his lips, he pulled her closer. A deep ache took hold between her thighs and she began moving her hips, rubbing her core against the hard bulge of his need. “Henry, please.”

  He broke the kiss, setting her away from him. “We cannot. Not here, not now.”

  She reclined in a daze of desire and frustration as he placed her slippers back on her feet. He sat beside her and tucked a wayward curl back into her pins. “You deserve better.”

  She met his gaze. “You are better.”

  He caressed her cheek. “Our time will come, and when it does, I will make love to you properly.”

  “Not too properly, I hope.” She nibbled her lower lip.

  “There will be nothing proper about the way I touch you, love.” He dropped a kiss on her lips. “But our joining will be in a proper time and place. Not a library in the middle of a ball.”

  Chapter 18

  The next night, Henry froze in the entry to Claudia’s parlor. She lounged on the settee in an almost transparent shift, her hair cascading freely around her. Several dozen candles were scattered about the room. Their flickering flames cast her in a warm glow, reflecting off her skin like a beacon in the night. She looked at him through hooded eyes. Hard desire surged through him. He had never seen a comelier woman, his very own Aphrodite.

  She crooked her finger, beckoning him to her. His loins tightened in response and he moved toward her. She licked her lips seductively. The act nearly undid him as he lowered himself onto the settee. She was a temptress, and he was powerless to stop her.

  He reached out a shaking hand to trail his fingertips across her rosy cheek to her lips. Her flesh was soft and warm. “You are stunning.”

  She started to sit up, a sensual smile tugging her lips.

  He held up a hand, stopping her as his heart hammered against his ribs. “Stay.” He wanted to commit the sight of her to memory. She rivaled the most beautiful paintings hanging in London’s museums. From her deep emerald eyes, to the swell of her breasts, and flare of her hips, she was perfect.

  Her lips parted slightly. One of her hands rested on her stomach, she twirled a lock of hair in the other.

  He feathered the back of his hand across her cheek, down her neck, and past the hollow of her throat to where her open shift revealed the creamy tops of her breasts. He sucked in a breath as her eyes fluttered closed and she arched, pushing her breast into his palm.

  “Henry, please.”

  The breathy plea devastated any resistance he had. He captured her lips with his. Soft and welcoming, their tongues tangled together in the most erotic way. He took greedily of her sweetness, unable to get enough of her.

  She clawed at h
is waistcoat, freeing him from the garment, then trailed her lips across his skin, teasing the flesh of his neck. Her kisses seared a path straight to his soul. He wound one of his hands into her thick, silken hair and teased her rosy nipples with his other.

  She worked his shirt loose of his breeches and pulled it over his head before bringing her mouth back to his. He nipped and suckled at her lips while she ran her hands over his chest. God, he wanted her. More than he had ever wanted anyone.

  Her soft moans fueled his need as he pushed her shift down to expose the fullness of her breasts. He bent his head and drew one pink nipple into his mouth, suckling and teasing.

  She cupped the back of his neck. “Henry, I need you. I need to feel you.” She pulled at the fall of his breeches. “Make love to me.”

  Her words pulled him back from the edge, and his mind cleared, bringing what was happening into sharp focus. He released her nipple then pushed himself back to a sitting position. He wanted to make love to her. His body demanded he do so. He looked away, scrubbing his hand across his jaw. Bloody hell, he nearly had taken her. Another few minutes and he would have been buried deep within her. “I cannot.”

  She pulled her shift up, covering her exposed breasts. Her gaze bore into his. “Pray tell, why not?”

  He would have to be honest. She deserved to know his reasons. The last thing he wanted was to play games with her. He would lay his cards straight here and now, come what may. Would she understand? Or would tonight be the end for them?

  “Henry.” She placed her hand on his neck. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

  The soft urging in her tone wrapped around him like a comforting embrace. He drew in a slow breath, steadying himself for the tale. “My mother used to cry herself to sleep. As a boy I listened from the other side of her door, desperate to help, but not knowing how.” He rushed the words out, not at all sure how he would tell her all of it. He had never told anyone the whole story.

  Claudia sat up and placed her hand on his, but she did not speak. She gave an encouraging squeeze.

  “Once I got older, I learned the truth. Father kept a mistress. Not just any mistress. He loved her deeply. He was hardly ever home because he preferred her and their bastards to his wife and legitimate children. He had no love to spare for Mother. It broke her heart.”

  “Oh Henry, none of it was your fault. Surely, you know that.”

  He nodded. “I often thought it was as a boy. She was so sad and I so powerless to help her. When I grew older, I came to understand there was nothing I could do to change anything. Then, when I was ten and seven, I came in from hunting. The deep sound of Father’s voice took me by surprise. He had been gone more than six weeks on a trip across the continent with his mistress. Mother said something to him, but I could not make out the words.”

  Claudia retrieved the bottle of champagne from a nearby table and brought him a flute. She said nothing, only pressed the glass into his shaking hand.

  He took a long drink. “I moved closer to hear what they were saying. Father told Mother he would be leaving again on the morrow. His mistress was in the guesthouse, and when he left that time, it would be for good. Mother begged him to stay, to consider his vows and their children, but he heard none of it. That is when the sobbing began.” He gulped down the remaining champagne. “Father left that night. I found Mother cold and blue in her bed the next day. They said she died of a broken heart. We allowed the story to stand. To this day, no one other than my brothers and me knows the truth. We never told Jane. You see, Mother took her own life that night.”

  Claudia swiped a tear from her eye.

  He gathered her hands into his and met her gaze. “I swore an oath to myself that same day. I would never keep a mistress.”

  She glanced away, breaking their connection. “Have you ever…been with a woman?”

  “Not one I cared for. Certainly not one I loved.” He reached for her face and turned it back to him. “Claudia, I love you. I could never use you in that way. I want to make you my wife. Let me hold you, cherish, and spoil you for the rest of our lives.”

  ***

  Claudia’s heart broke for Henry. The very idea of all he had seen and suffered caused her physical pain. A deep ache formed within her for the little boy he had been, the man he’d become, and all he had endured. She wanted to hold and soothe him. He was a good man, but she could not give him what he wanted. Her stomach turned at what she must do.

  She desperately wished she were a different person. A person without her own deep wounds. The kind of person who could give herself to him completely, body and soul. For a moment, she allowed herself to consider his proposal. Then panic ripped through her, chilling her blood. “I cannot marry.”

  The pain in his expression stabbed her soul. She pulled her hands from his, stood, and retrieved her wrapper. “I wish things were different.”

  She heard the echo of his foot falls as she pulled her wrapper on. His arms came around her and his warm breath tickled her ear. She stiffened at the unexpected touch.

  “I will not walk away from you. I love you. If it takes the rest of my days to convince you, I will gladly spend them trying.”

  Tears pricked at her eyes, but she held them back. “I have my own scars, Henry. Deep wounds that I fear I cannot get past.”

  “Perhaps, someday, you will trust me enough to share them.”

  This was Henry. The man who did not hold her past scandals against her. Who accepted her for who she was. The one who gave her a chance when he had every reason to run away from her. He loved her against reason and made her feel safe when she never thought she would be again. Her world tilted around her. She did trust him. She was a bird-witted ninny for not seeing it sooner.

  “If that day should ever come, you will find me here waiting and loving you.”

  She turned in his arms to face him. “I do trust you.”

  “Then share your fears with me. Allow me to help you.”

  She nodded before leading him back to the settee. Once they were seated, she poured them each another glass of champagne. She would need the courage the alcohol brought to get through her story. “I only recently told some of this to Vivian.” She took a drink. “I suppose that night we met, I told you a bit as well.”

  He tried to pull her into his arms, but she held up her hand, stilling him. She needed to do this. She was strong enough to do this without the safety of his embrace. “I told you Akford was a monster. That I was pleased he died. Later, I shared with you how he trapped me.”

  Henry nodded. “I recall that night like it was yesterday.”

  “I did not tell you what made him a monster. How he lured me into a false sense of security then ruled me with iron fists.” She closed her eyes for a moment, searching her mind for the right place to start.

  Henry took her hand in his. “You are safe with me.”

  She opened her eyes, meeting his tender, brown eyes. “For a while our marriage seemed tolerable, pleasant even. I recovered from the way he had trapped me and cost me Julian. I allowed myself to believe I could come to care for Akford and I worked to be a good wife to him. After all, I could do nothing to change the past. Akford treated me with kindness in those early days. I did not know what a demon he could be or how short-lived my contentment would be.”

  She refilled her glass, desperate to numb the pain of her old wounds. “We attended our first and last ball all in the same night. I had spent hours making myself beautiful because I wanted him to be proud of me. When I came down the stairs to leave, he sent me back up. He demanded I change into a less revealing gown and have my hair redone in a more matronly style. In the end, I looked like a dowager. I did not understand what I had done to upset him and I did not ask. Instead, I followed his orders. If he preferred me dressed more modestly, I could oblige. What would it hurt? I was already married.”

  She took another drink and glanced at the hearth. “He demanded we leave the ball before dinner was served. He accused me of flir
ting with other gentlemen. I had not flirted with anyone, but he believed I had and that was all that counted. When we arrived home, he pulled me upstairs and ripped my gown from my body. I begged him to stop, swore I wanted no other. He struck me with his fist. I fell to the bed…”

  Henry reached for her again. This time she did not resist. She settled against him, drawing strength from his embrace.

  “The blows kept coming as I curled into a ball on the mattress. He told me over and over that I had embarrassed him and made a fool of us both. Then he climbed onto the bed, forced my legs apart, and took his marital rights. I tried to deny him. Tried to push him away, but he was stronger. He reminded me time and again that I belonged to him. Once he had finished, he left me there battered and bruised. Afraid to move, I stared at the ceiling all night, wondering what I had done to upset him so much, to make him believe I had been flirting.”

  “You did not deserve to be treated in such a way. No one deserves what you endured.” Henry stroked her hair and murmured a string of consoling words.

  Claudia swallowed back the lump in her throat. Tears stung her eyes. “That night was the first time he abused me, but it would not be the last. He forbade me from leaving the country estate. Dismissed any servant that dared to befriend me. Punished me when my family or friends came to call. He berated and controlled me like I was his puppet.”

  She looked up at Henry. “You see, I made myself a vow, too. Never again would I give a man power over me.”

  “Who could blame you after the atrocities he rained down on you.” Henry stroked her arm with his soothing touch. Her eyes grew heavy as he comforted her.

  Her eyes fluttered open to find sun streaming through the window. When had she fallen asleep? She reached out for Henry, but found no purchase. The previous night slammed into her. He had bared his soul to her, and she to him. She could not lose him now. He was no Akford. Henry was kind, loyal, and loving--everything she wanted. He would never hurt her. Why had she failed to see it sooner? She had to go to him.

  Chapter 19