Scandal of the Season

by Christie Kelley

  Instead, her mind wandered to the hard chest she found herself pressed against, the calloused hand covering her mouth and the scent of sandalwood permeating the air around them.

  “Do you understand?” he whispered so quietly she barely heard him.

  She nodded.

  He slowly removed his hand and slipped it around her waist. She prayed Avis and Jennette would finish quickly. Being this close to him caused her heart to beat erratically and warmth to spread throughout her body. How could he expect her to sleep next to him all week?

  They stood there a few minutes more before she finally heard her friends leaving the store. She exhaled a long held breath and moved away from him.

  “We need to leave before someone else walks in,” she said.

  “I agree, but we are not done shopping yet.” He walked away to speak with the shopkeeper again.

  Victoria clenched her fists. Never had she met such an exasperating man. She could not walk into another shop with him!

  “All right, everything is set. The gowns will be finished by Wednesday afternoon. That should give you time to pack them.” He paused for a moment. “You do have a trunk, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I have a trunk,” she retorted. There was no need to tell him it would be a borrowed trunk.

  “Good, now you need new undergarments, bonnets, gloves—”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him. “You will not assist me in buying undergarments. Besides no one will see them so what I have is serviceable enough.”

  “Oh?” He cocked a brow at her. “Is that not what a man does for a mistress?”

  “No.”

  “I believe it is. And do not forget that I shall see you in your undergarments and will not be pleased to find you wearing ‘serviceable’ things.”

  “Bastard,” she hissed as she walked out the door. He grabbed her arm and swung her toward him. His hazel eyes had turned green with anger.

  “I am the man who can rip your world apart. Don’t ever forget that.”

  She yanked her arm out of his grip. “I am quite certain you will never let me forget it.”

  “I won’t,” he whispered.

  Anthony opened the door to Lady Whitely’s brothel and walked upstairs after a few nods to the ladies. Several of them looked disappointed that he was heading toward his mother’s private rooms. After a quick knock, he entered the empty room. His mother would hear about his entrance from one of the ladies and follow him quickly.

  He wandered the suite of rooms, admiring her style of decorating. While she had most of the house decorated in gaudy reds and burgundies, this room had pale blue wall coverings with white and gold accents. It hardly looked like the bedroom of a brothel owner.

  Ten years ago, he had run from this place as if the devil had been chasing him. Now, he found it, and her, far less unpleasant than visiting his childhood home. He only called there to see his sister. His father could rot in hell for all he cared.

  “Anthony.”

  He turned his head at the soothing sound of his mother’s voice. “Good afternoon, Mother.”

  “This is a pleasant surprise.”

  “I happened to be near and thought I would call on you.” He sat in the gold velvet chair.

  “What is really wrong, Anthony?”

  He should have known she would immediately realize he was worrying about something.

  He told her about Genna’s visit and lack of enthusiasm toward her upcoming nuptials. “I’m not certain she even loves the man,” he added.

  His mother’s brows drew downward into a pained frown. “I wish I could give her some advice.”

  “You gave up that right almost twenty years ago,” he said harshly. Sometimes when he least expected it, the anger at her surfaced. While he understood it wasn’t all her fault, it never stopped the resentment from returning.

  “I understand that, Anthony. However, it doesn’t mean I can’t yearn for something I will never have.”

  She stared down at her silk skirts. At forty-five, she was still a beautiful woman. A few gray strands sprinkled her blond hair and several lines around her eyes were now apparent. But she radiated beauty.

  “So why else did you call on me today, Anthony?”

  “I will be leaving on Thursday for a house party. So I won’t be able to call for a fortnight.”

  She nodded. “Farleigh’s party, no doubt.”

  “How did you know…? Never mind, I’m sure I do not want to know how you learned about the party.” Whom his mother slept with was none of his business. He had decided that years ago.

  “I hear everything in here,” she said with a small laugh.

  Anthony looked around the room and then stood to glance out the window. His gaze slid to Victoria’s home. Was she there now?

  “What is really bothering you, my dear?” she asked softly. “Have you thought about what I said?”

  “Yes.”

  “Excellent. I have been thinking that Lord Farber’s oldest might be another option for you. She’s been out for three Seasons and has not taken an interest in anyone.”

  “Mother, I will think about Miss Farber and Miss Coddington when I return from the party.”

  She frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. “You are doing another job for Ainsworth.”

  “Yes, but I have decided this is my last. But that is not what is bothering me.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “What do you know of Miss Seaton?” He needed to find out all he could before he depended on her for such an important assignment.

  “Miss Seaton?”

  “Your neighbor, next door,” he replied.

  “Yes, I know of her,” she answered stiffly. “Of course, we don’t socialize. I believe she is the daughter of a vicar. She takes in orphans. She appears pleasant enough.”

  Anthony turned and stared at his mother for a long moment. There was an odd tone to her voice as if she wasn’t telling him everything. But what more could she know about Victoria? That was the impression Victoria gave to the world. The quiet mouse who brought orphans into her house to save them from a life of crime. He wondered if anyone, save him, knew she was really a thief.

  “My mind wonders what you know of her…and why.” His mother rose and crossed her arms over her chest. “Miss Seaton is not a woman for the likes of you.”

  Anthony blinked. “The likes of me? Your son.”

  “Exactly. A man who uses women for his pleasure—”

  “And their pleasure, too.”

  She continued as if she hadn’t heard him, “A man who has just decided that respectability is important. A man who has no real desire for marriage. A man who doesn’t seem to even respect women.”

  “Now, I really must protest that last statement. I fully respect women,” he said solemnly.

  “No, you do not. They are nothing but playthings to you. And I will not stand for you treating Miss Seaton poorly.” She sounded like a protective mother lioness. “Besides, Miss Seaton will not correct your position in Society. You need the daughter of a peer.”

  “You have nothing to worry about, Mother. I have no intention of treating Miss Seaton with anything but respect.” And with their history, he could never do more than give her a kiss. Touching her in any other manner was out of the question. She must hate him for what he’d done to her.

  “You had best not, Anthony. That young woman is a sweet, innocent lady.”

  Anthony smothered a laugh. He wondered how his mother would feel about the sweet, innocent lady if she knew Victoria had stolen her daughter’s necklace.

  “Victoria, she’s here,” Maggie said from the threshold of Victoria’s small office.

  “Are the children all upstairs?” Victoria asked as she placed her quill in its holder.

  “Yes.”

  “Very well, then.” Victoria straightened her hair. “Send her in.”

  She took a sip of her tepid tea and swallowed down her trepidation. Listening to the
soft footfalls, her nerves tightened and her stomach clenched.

  “Good afternoon, Victoria.”

  “Good afternoon, Lady Whitely. Shall we sit at the sofa?” God, she hated the way her voice quivered whenever she talked to the woman.

  “Yes.” Lady Whitely moved gracefully toward the worn sofa. After sitting, she patted the cushion next to her. “Join me.”

  Victoria stood and slowly walked to the sofa. This woman could take everything away from her if she desired it. But not for long. Once she made it through next week, she would have enough money that Lady Whitely could do nothing to her. Somerton’s money would give her the safety and security she’d been searching for all her life.

  “Sit,” she ordered.

  Victoria promptly sat on the sofa. She folded her trembling hands together on her lap.

  “How do you know Lord Somerton?” Lady Whitely asked directly.

  Victoria frowned. Ten years ago, she had admitted to Lady Whitely that she had given her innocence to a man. But she had never told Lady Whitely the man’s name so why was she questioning her about him? Could she have seen them shopping?

  “I met him a few days ago at Lady Selby’s party. It was the first time I had met him, though he is friends with Lord Selby.”

  “Damn him.” Lady Whitely stared at Victoria. “You need to stay away from him.”

  “Why?” she asked in an innocent tone.

  “The man is a hardened rake. He will use you more so than any other man.” Lady Whitely looked away. “And do not think for a moment that he will ask for your hand in marriage. He wants nothing to do with that. He has no respect for women.”

  “Of course,” Victoria murmured demurely. Just the interactions she had with him the past two days had shown her how much he’d changed in ten years.

  Lady Whitely’s face was pinched and pained as if Somerton had hurt her in some manner. Perhaps Lady Whitely had an infatuation with him. It wasn’t that odd, she might be older but Somerton had his charms. Victoria knew that far too well.

  “Victoria, I am not certain you recognize the significance of what I am saying. You must not under any circumstances encourage even a friendship with Lord Somerton.”

  “As you wish.” And it wasn’t a lie. Victoria had no intention of encouraging a friendship or any other relationship with the man. All she had to do was tolerate him for a week. She could feign indifference around him, and hopefully he would believe she had no interest in him. Once their week passed, she would only see him at a few functions.

  “I’m sorry, Victoria,” Lady Whitely murmured. “I would tell you more if I could but I cannot. Please just take my advice with this man.”

  “Lady Whitely, I owe you everything and more. If you ask me not to see Lord Somerton, then I shall do my best not to. I cannot help if he is at a function of one of my friends. But I will not encourage him.”

  Lady Whitely rose and walked toward the small fireplace. “If only that would stop him. Once he decides on a woman, he will do everything in his power to have her. I should hate to see you become his mistress, Victoria.”

  She hated lying to her but had no choice in the matter. Lady Whitely must not discover her plans for next week.

  “Lady Whitely, I will never be Lord Somerton’s mistress. Or any other man’s for that matter. I have eight children to care for. When would I find the time?” she said with a laugh.

  Lady Whitely laughed softly. “Very true, my dear. They keep you very busy.” She sat back down on the sofa and finally smiled at Victoria. “How is she?”

  “She is very well.”

  Lady Whitely looked toward the door wistfully. “I saw her a week ago from my window. She is becoming so grown-up.”

  “And more beautiful every day. When the time is right, I will find a sponsor for her. She deserves a Season and a man who will treat her well.” Victoria hoped Avis or Jennette would sponsor the child when the time came. If not, she had no idea how to accomplish such a thing. But it did not matter right now. She had to get everyone ready for her week away.

  And pray Lady Whitely didn’t discover with whom she was going.

  Chapter Seven

  Victoria sat back against the comfortable carriage seat and sighed. She’d never been away from the children and would miss them terribly. Leaving them this morning had been one of the hardest things she’d ever done. All of them had tears in their eyes and made her promise she would return before Christmas.

  Thankfully, Somerton had found a very suitable woman to come in and assist Maggie to keep the children under control. They could survive one week without her. Or at least Victoria tried to tell herself that.

  They had driven for about an hour and other than a brief comment, the man across from her was silent. Perhaps he had many things on his mind. Although, as she looked over at him, his eyes were shuttered tight and his breathing even as if he slept. She had no idea how he could sleep in a moving carriage.

  Then again, Somerton had probably left London before, unlike her. Victoria tucked the fur robe over her shoulder and glanced out the window. The buildings of London were now in the distance and ahead lay fields of white from the light falling snow. A few small houses and inns were coming into sight but mostly the scenery held her captive.

  Excitement filled her as they drove farther away from the only place she had ever known. Her mind bounced with curiosity about the estate to which they traveled. She had heard some descriptions of Lord Selby’s estates from Avis, but Victoria could never imagine the enormity of it all. Having grown up in squalor, her very modest home on Maddox Street seemed huge.

  “What are you thinking about?” Somerton’s voice sounded gravelly as if he had just awakened.

  She turned her head and glanced over at him. His sleepy eyes had opened slightly as he stared at her. Her heart raced at the sight of the handsome man. “I was only looking outside.”

  “Why?”

  She broke away from his stare and looked out the window again. “I have never been this far from London.”

  “Never?” he asked in an incredulous tone.

  “No,” she replied with a shrug.

  “But we are barely out of town.”

  “Still, farther than I have been.”

  He chuckled softly. “I am truly amazed. I have traveled all my life so I must admit I assumed everyone did the same.”

  “You think my life is funny?” Indignation rose up in her. How dare the man laugh at her life?

  “No,” he said quietly. “I think it’s rather sad.”

  “Lovely,” she said, looking over at him again. “Now, I’m just the object of your pity.”

  “The only thing you are the object of in my mind is…”

  “Is?” she pressed when he left the sentence unfinished.

  “Nothing,” he said roughly. “The only thing you are here for is to pretend to be my mistress.”

  “Why a pretend mistress, Somerton?” She tilted her head and pursed her lips. “I find it difficult to believe that you would have any issues finding a real one.”

  “I do not need the complications of a real mistress this week. I need a woman who will play her part and not get some foolish notion in her head that I will change for her.” His intense gaze burned through her. “I will not. Do we understand each other?”

  “Perfectly. You want no commitment or attachments of a sensual nature.” And if she believed that to be true, why was there such tension in the carriage? Why when he looked over at her did her heart race?

  The next few minutes passed slowly. She returned to viewing the scenery and attempting to ignore him, while Somerton sat across from her with a scowl.

  “How did you go from selling oranges to taking in children?” he asked, breaking the stifling silence. “The amount you stole from me wouldn’t have given you enough to lease a home for more than a few months.”

  Victoria shook her head in confusion. “What are you talking about? I never stole any money from you.”

 
; “The money I won gambling that night. It was gone and so were you.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest as disappointment filled her. “So you just assumed I took it.”

  “You knew I had won some money. It was in my pocket when we were talking. Later it was gone. Why would I think otherwise? I never faulted you. After what had happened, I assumed you took your due.”

  He thought she was nothing more than a whore. “You were drunk that night. You were asleep when I left you and the money at the church. Someone probably came by and stole it from you after I left.”

  He looked away from her as he tightened his jaw. “Perhaps,” he admitted softly.

  “Why would you believe me?” she mumbled, shaking her head. Why would he? She’d been nothing but an orange seller who gave herself to a man on the street like a prostitute. And of course, she had pinched a necklace from his pocket. She wouldn’t have believed her either.

  “I said, perhaps. But even you would have to admit that I have just cause in believing you stole the money.”

  “It really does not matter.” Although, it did matter to her. Most of her life she’d done the wrong thing, but that time, she hadn’t. And it mattered to her.

  She turned away and stared out the window knowing she would never be the type of woman whom he could trust. And she wondered why she should care what he thought of her. Her position here was only to play a part, like an actress on a stage.

  “You never did answer my question,” he said in a quiet tone.

  Frowning, she glanced back at him. “What question was that?”

  “How did you go from selling oranges to taking in children?”

  She closed her eyes and fought back the tears. The promise she had made ten years ago had never been difficult to keep…until now.

  “How do you think I did it?” she asked, staring at him until he looked away.

  “The easy way,” he muttered with a sound of disgust.