Scandal Becomes Her

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Scandal Becomes Her Page 6

by Shirlee Busbee


  Keeping his eyes averted from her troublesome form, he muttered, “It would be ungentlemanly for me to leave you alone in this place.”

  Nell nearly stamped her foot. “I assure you that I shall be perfectly safe.”

  “Will you?” he asked, his gaze fixed on her mouth. “Will you, indeed? Shall I show you precisely how dangerous your position is?”

  Her eyes widened as he reached for her. She leaped backward, but that blasted leg of hers buckled as his hands closed round her shoulders. She fell, dragging him to the floor with her.

  They landed in a heap, Julian on top of her. His warm weight crushed her to the floor and, panicked, Nell struck him. “Let me go!” she gasped. “You are no gentleman to treat me so! My father will have your hide if you dare touch me.”

  Julian smiled down at her, the feel of her slender body beneath him the most delicious sensation he had ever experienced. Rape, however, had never appealed to him and two things were apparent: she was an innocent and wanted none of him. But that mouth was an overwhelming temptation and he coaxed, “One kiss, poppet. Just one.”

  “Never! Let me go you beast!” Nell put a great deal of outrage in her voice. It was difficult. This stranger, felon or highwayman, was the most devastatingly appealing man she had ever met, but pride alone, and a strong dose of common sense, demanded that she extricate herself from this invidious situation immediately. Sharply she said, “I insist that you let me go. Now.”

  “I would, if I were you,” said Sir Edward, from behind him, “do as the lady requests. Otherwise, I shall be compelled to shoot you in the back—like the piece of offal you are.”

  “And if he were to miss,” drawled Robert, at his father’s side, “I should not. If you wish to live, unhand her this instant.”

  Chapter 4

  Julian had been in hazardous positions before, but none that had left him feeling so silly. He rolled off the young woman on the floor and onto his back, considering and discarding hasty plans to escape with his life—and possibly his dignity intact. Finding himself facing two narrow-eyed gentlemen, the pistol in the younger man’s hand aimed at his heart, he threw any concerns about dignity to the winds and concentrated on saving his life. He did not recognize the two men who stared so menacingly at him, but he did recognize them as belonging to the gentlemanly class. He sighed. He really would throttle Elizabeth when he finally got his hands on her. If she had not taken it into her mind to run away with her dashing captain, none of this would have happened. Julian was fair—it wasn’t his stepsister’s fault that he had been found rolling around on the floor with a young woman who was obviously not the sort to enjoy a stolen kiss, but it was because of Elizabeth that he was here at all. And if he managed to avoid being shot this morning, he had every intention of letting her know in just what a devil of a fix she had landed him.

  Gazing at the two men before him, he considered using his knife, but he hesitated. The two men probably had good reason for looking so outraged and lethal and he suspected their attitude was brought on by something more than his, uh, friendly tussle with the wench lying next to him. Despite their looks and the pistols, he sensed that he wasn’t about to be shot—at least not at this moment. So who were they and what was their connection to his companion?

  The answer came from the fascinating creature herself. Scrambling awkwardly to her feet, the drag of her left leg very noticeable, she half-stumbled, half-fell into the older man’s arms. A sob broke from her as he clasped her to his bosom. “Oh, Papa!” she cried. “You found me! I so hoped that you would.”

  Julian’s lips twisted. Oh, lud! He had certainly plunged himself into a tangle this time. The fetching little baggage was the gentleman’s daughter. His position became even more invidious—even the most indulgent parent would not look kindly upon finding the daughter of the house lolling about on the floor with an unmarried gentleman. He frowned. Any man, for that matter. But what the devil, he wondered with a frown, had she been doing here alone and garbed in nothing more than a nightgown? It appeared that her lack of proper attire was just another mystery connected to the young woman and, of course, he had always been intrigued by mysteries…

  The two men forgot about Julian as they reassured themselves that the woman was unhurt. Since they were not paying attention to him, he sat up. The younger man, recalled instantly to his presence, flashed him a glance and said, “Do not move, you black-hearted villain! How dare you lay a hand on my sister!”

  Well, that was a relief, Julian thought, he had been a trifle worried that the younger man had been a husband—and husbands, in his opinion, were very unreliable when it came to their wives…especially wives found in the arms of other men.

  The younger man stared at him puzzled. “Do I know you?” he asked. “You look familiar to me—have I seen you before? Perhaps in London?”

  “He says his name is Weston,” said the young woman, turning in her father’s arms to stare at Julian with troubled eyes.

  “Weston!” exclaimed the younger man. “Are you related to Wyndham?”

  Julian smiled wryly. “Despite my less than sartorial elegance at the moment and the pressing need for a bath and a barber, I am indeed related to Wyndham. I am Wyndham.”

  “Never say so!” exclaimed the older man. He studied Julian’s face and despite Julian’s unshaven cheeks and rumpled clothing and his resemblance more to a dangerous brigand than to the elegant Earl of Wyndham, Sir Edward realized he spoke the truth. “Yes, I recognize you now,” Sir Edward said. “You have been pointed out to me. I have seen you about London.” He looked bewildered, but politeness took over. Putting away his pistol, he motioned for Julian to rise and said stiffly, “I am Sir Edward Anslowe. This is my son, Robert, and my daughter, Miss Eleanor Anslowe.”

  Julian rose to his feet and bowed. “My pleasure—although I could have wished to meet you under more pleasant circumstances.”

  Frowning, Sir Edward looked from his daughter to Julian. “I do not understand any of this,” he began slowly, “but what in blazes, man, was your reason for snatching my daughter from her very bed last night? Was it some infamous wager you made? I cannot believe that a gentleman of your stature would act so dishonorably and seek simply to ruin her.” Looking even angrier and confused, he demanded, “If you fancied her, why did you not approach me? We are not as wealthy and powerful as your family, but our name is a proud one and my daughter is an heiress in her own right—surely you must have known that I would have approved your courtship.”

  Nell gasped and glanced horrified up at her father. “Papa, I have never laid eyes on the man before this morning! And he is not the person who t-t-took me away last night—that vile creature was Tynedale.”

  Julian stiffened. “What does Tynedale have to do with this affair?”

  “I think a better question,” said Robert, as he put away his pistol, “would be what do you have to do with Nell’s abduction?”

  Leaning his hips against the table, Julian crossed his arms over his chest and said, “I had nothing to do with, er, Nell’s abduction. It is an unfortunate set of events that has brought us together.” He glanced at Sir Edward. “My presence here is by accident—my horse bolted during the storm last night and left afoot I remembered this place and sought refuge. I had no idea that anyone else was here.”

  Sir Edward cast an uneasy look down at Nell. “If it was Tynedale who snatched you last night, how is it that we found you alone this morning with Lord Wyndham? And in a most compromising position?”

  Forgetful for the moment of his own precarious position, Julian watched the volatile emotions that rushed across Miss Anslowe’s face. She shot Julian a burning look. “It is not my fault that you found us in such an awkward situation!”

  Julian smiled sunnily at her, thinking that she really was a taking little thing with those fairy features and tumbled tawny hair. Which was just as well, he decided dryly, since he had a very strong notion where this was going. He sighed. He had sworn never to marry again,
but fate seemed to have other ideas. At the moment, he didn’t see any honorable way out of the circumstances except marriage. And there was the mention of Tynedale. He was not a stupid man and he had already put together much of what must have happened last night. Tynedale had been the abductor, but the clever wench had escaped from him and found her way to the abandoned toll house. That the young lady was an heiress explained much; Tynedale had planned a runaway marriage. Julian eyed Nell, noting again the high bosom and slender form only partially hidden beneath her thin garment. And if he knew Tynedale, and he did, Tynedale’s interest had not been just in her fortune. She was a fetching armful, and if he could deprive his enemy of her, well, putting his head into the parson’s mousetrap was a small cost to pay.

  Nell gritted her teeth at Julian’s smile. Turning her back on his aggravating presence, she spoke to her father and brother. After assuring them that she had escaped from Tynedale with her virtue intact she finished by relating the sequence of events that had brought her to the toll house. “I slept so soundly that I never heard him”—she flashed Julian a dark look—“enter the building. My first indication that anyone else was here with me was when I awoke this morning.”

  Sir Edward rubbed his chin, looking unhappily from Julian to Nell. Julian knew what was on his mind.

  Sighing, he straightened his shoulders and said, “Sir Edward, I understand your predicament and though none of this is anyone’s fault, except Tynedale’s, I am prepared to do the honorable thing and marry your daughter.”

  “Marry you!” Nell hooted, green eyes derisive. “I think not, my lord! Why I don’t even know you.” Her gaze narrowed. “And from what little I have learned of you, I don’t like you—you are the last man in England that I would marry!”

  “Er, I’m afraid that you don’t have much choice in the matter,” Sir Edward muttered.

  “What do you mean?” she demanded, glancing from one set face to the other.

  “Nell,” Robert explained, “you were alone through the night with him. It doesn’t matter that, uh, nothing happened between you. The point is that you were with him in an intimate setting with no chaperon. If it is discovered you will be ruined.”

  Nell’s chin went up. “I don’t care! I will not marry him. My reputation is my own and I don’t give a fig what some filthy minded people may think.”

  “But I do care,” said Julian silkily. “I do not want it bandied about that I seduce and ruin young women. Nor would I deliberately bring shame and scandal upon my family—even if you would.”

  Nell’s fists clenched at her sides. “I would do nothing to dishonor my family—even,” she said between her teeth, “if it meant I had to marry you. But do not forget that no one else knows what happened.” She glanced nervously from one grim male face to the other. “And as long as we do not speak of it, no one need know.”

  “What about Tynedale?” Julian taunted. “He’ll know.”

  “He knows that I escaped, but he doesn’t know about this place or you!”

  Robert and Sir Edward exchanged a glance. “We will see to Tynedale,” Sir Edward said. “While his abduction failed, he must be brought to account.”

  “And how,” asked Julian, “will you do that? You cannot bring him before the magistrate—not if you want tonight’s events to remain secret. And if you chose a duel to settle the matter, that act would give rise to speculation as to its cause. Sooner or later the reason for it would come out. And, consider if you will, Tynedale might not be above blackmail.”

  “Blackmail, but how?” asked Nell. “Of course he could threaten to tell that he abducted me, but what would be the point? And if he did reveal what happened, he would face rejection and scorn. He would not dare.”

  “Can you be so certain?” Julian inquired with a lift of his brow. “He is a desperate man—and vindictive. He might not care about the consequences.”

  “Hmmm, you are right, we cannot run the risk that he would not try his hand at extorting money from us,” agreed Sir Edward, nodding. He sighed. “And we would certainly pay to keep him quiet.”

  “Oh, this is utter nonsense!” declared Nell. “We could remain here all day and come to no conclusion.” She looked at her father. “Papa, I am very tired. I am chilled to the bone, dirty and hungry. Please, may we just go home and put this dreadful experience behind us?”

  The sound of an approaching vehicle caused them all to freeze. They listened intently as the sound of horses’ hooves and the jingle of a harness grew near. A moment later the vehicle slowed and Nell held her breath, half-hidden behind her father. Please, she prayed, let them travel onward.

  Her prayer was not answered. A male voice called out, “Hallo, the house! Sir Edward, are you there?”

  Sir Edward looked undecided as he glanced at the others. “It is Humphries—he must have recognized my carriage parked outside.”

  “Not,” Julian asked in hollow accents, “the Lord Humphries who is married to Lady Humphries?”

  A strident female voice was heard. “Of course he is there. Are you blind? That’s his coach, his crest is upon the door and that is his coachman, Travers, as you very well know. I wonder what Sir Edward is doing here? Help me down so that we may investigate.”

  Sir Edward cast a look at Julian and smiled grimly. “The very same. And I see by your expression that his lady’s reputation as the greatest gossip in London is known to you.” He sighed. “I am afraid that this changes things, my lord.”

  Julian shrugged. “I already offered to marry your daughter, sir. Lady Humphries’s arrival does not affect that.”

  “I am not,” Nell hissed, “going to marry you.”

  “You don’t have any choice,” Julian replied, an unwarranted feeling of satisfaction building within him.

  The next instant, an elegantly attired gentleman and a small, equally splendidly dressed woman entered the room.

  “Ah, there you are, my friend,” said Lord Humphries, his kind blue eyes alighting on Sir Edward. He glanced around, a frown puckering his forehead. “Is something wrong?”

  Lady Humphries spied Nell and taking in her bedraggled appearance, she smiled brightly. Here was scandal, as sure as she was born. Her birdlike gaze fell upon Julian and her eyes widened. Wyndham! Now this was most interesting, indeed.

  Flicking aside the skirts of her russet and fawn traveling gown, she marched up to Nell and questioned, “Why Nell, dear, whatever has happened to you? You look ghastly. And Julian! My boy, what is going on?”

  While Nell stared at her in dumb horror, Julian stepped into the breech. “I take exception to your words, Lady Humphries,” Julian murmured, as he bowed and kissed Lady Humphries’s outstretched hand. “You are speaking to my bride-to-be, you know,” adding with the charming smile for which he was famous, “and I will not have you casting aspersions on her undeniable beauty.”

  Even against Lady Humphries that smile had its usual effect and she smiled girlishly—despite having celebrated her seventieth birthday the previous month. “Your bride-to-be!” she exclaimed. “Oh, the hearts that will be broken over this announcement.” She looked around. “But tell me, why are you all here?”

  Her question paralyzed the Anslowes. But still holding Lady Humphries’s hand, Julian said smoothly, “An accident. The storm, you know. Sir Edward had given me permission to pay my addresses to his daughter and I thought a ride in the countryside to a private little meadow I know of would be an appropriate place to lay my heart before Miss Anslowe.” He smiled conspiratorially at Lady Humphries. “My instincts were correct and having received the answer I longed for, we were on our way back to London when we were overtaken by the storm…a, uh, wheel came off my rig, leaving us stranded, and we were forced to seek shelter here.” He waved an encompassing hand toward the silent Anslowe family. “Fortunately, before there could be any hint of impropriety, knowing we were in an open carriage and that we would be caught unprepared by the storm, Sir Edward and Robert arrived. The storm was at its height and we, er, d
ecided it would be unwise to travel back to London. We spent the night here, together. We were just preparing to leave when you arrived.”

  “I see,” murmured Lady Humphries. She knew very well that she was being fed a Banbury story. There was a great deal that was being left unsaid, but short of calling Wyndham a bald-faced liar, she saw no way of learning more. What she did know, however, was fascinating enough. Why, once it was learned, and she would make certain that it was learned, that she had come upon the newly engaged couple under such extraordinary circumstances, she would be the most sought-out person in England this winter. Everyone would want to hear the story from her lips—and she was certainly eager to tell it.

  Smiling at the quartet, she murmured, “Well, if there is nothing that we can do for you, we shall be on our way.” She looked arch. “I will look forward to reading your announcement in the Times.”

  With all the enthusiasm of a condemned prisoner approaching the gallows, Nell watched Lord and Lady Humphries depart. Her gaze fell upon Julian’s enigmatic features and she grimaced. She was engaged. To him!

  As the Humphries’s coach rumbled away, Julian glanced at Sir Edward and said, “I believe the presence of Lord and Lady Humphries settles the matter, sir. As of this moment, your daughter and I are officially engaged—you can be certain that Lady Humphries will be spreading the word amongst the ton. I would suggest that we leave for London immediately—before we have any more visitors. You may leave it to me to insert the notice in the Times.”

  Sir Edward concurred, and shortly the four of them were in the Anslowe coach and headed for London. Except for planning the details of the coming nuptials, and it was decided, despite Nell’s objections, that the marriage should take place speedily, there was scant conversation among the quartet—particularly between the newly betrothed couple. As the coach rattled and bumped its way over the rough road, beyond terse replies to any question sent her way, Nell contented herself with glaring at Julian, and Julian passed the time by wondering if he hadn’t gone mad.

 

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