In Pursuit of a Scandalous Lady

by Gayle Callen

He crossed his arms over his chest. “This all took place almost ten years ago.”

  “I was still in the schoolroom,” she said mildly.

  He rolled his eyes, and she saw that he’d regained control of the emotions battling inside him—emotions that he’d spent his adulthood keeping locked away, she guessed. She heard he was in control of an empire he’d resurrected, and she saw how firmly he managed the people all around him. He was certainly taking control of her, too. But his feelings? Mastering them was a different matter, and she felt it must frustrate him. It seemed so…foreign to her. She was a member of a family that loved openly, fought openly, expressed every emotion.

  “So if you’re not accusing me of theft…” Her voice trailed off expectantly.

  “I need to find out how the Scandalous Lady came to you.”

  Julian watched Rebecca’s hazel, changeable eyes, looking for a clue to her thoughts. He didn’t know her well enough to read the truth, but he was a good judge of the measure of a person. Yet…the depth of her eluded him. It was too soon in their acquaintance, but it frustrated him nonetheless.

  She sighed and leaned back on her hands as she sat on the bed. Though her gown was torn and dirty, in the soft candlelight he didn’t notice such things, only the curves of her breasts, the smooth line of her cheek.

  He couldn’t afford to lose track of the importance of this conversation. “Well?” he asked, keeping his voice even. “How did you come by the diamond?”

  “Roger Eastfield had it. He suggested I wear it when I posed for the painting.” She shrugged, her smile wry. “He was the artist, so I obeyed. When I asked to borrow it, he agreed, telling me it was only paste. It was such a good piece of craftsmanship that I thought it would work well with one of my gowns—as you saw.”

  “It drew a man’s eyes where you wanted them to go.”

  She inhaled swiftly, eyes widening.

  He smiled. “I meant no disrespect. Women dress to be seen, and to emphasize their best assets.”

  “I would like to think my best asset is my mind,” she said.

  “Conversation would show that, of course.” He hesitated, momentarily remembering the wager. “Then again, you’d already had a painting show several of your best assets.”

  “Believe what you will,” she said firmly, frowning. “So do you want to talk about the painting again, or the diamond?”

  He sank down slowly onto a stool at the table. He had so many questions about why she’d chosen to pose nude—but now wasn’t the time. “The artist never spoke of the diamond, or how he came by it?”

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry. And I didn’t think to ask. It was in a box with other jewelry.”

  “Perhaps he was a thief,” Julian mused.

  “He was a creative person, passionate about his work. Why would he do such a thing?”

  “To support his art. I understand that demand is now growing for his paintings, but ten years ago, perhaps that wasn’t true.”

  “He never sold it, which negates your theory. Would he have had access to the jewel by painting a portrait for someone in your family?”

  “Not that I know of,” he conceded. “But he could have heard the tale of the Scandalous Lady, the argument over its rightful owner, and decided to use it to his advantage.”

  “Anyone could have done that, Julian,” she said softly. “And wouldn’t the thief most likely be someone your family entertained?”

  “I always thought so. Then I saw the diamond displayed on your neck.”

  She cocked her head. “Did you think someone in my family had stolen it?”

  “I considered it. And then I did my research. There would be no reason, for your family certainly has wealth aplenty.”

  “Most of that is the duke’s. My father is a mere professor,” she reminded him.

  “I know, but your mother is the daughter of a duke, and you grew up in a palace. Yet nowhere did I come upon anyone in your family ever accused of evil intentions. Stupidity perhaps, or thoughtlessness.”

  He thought her shocked gasp rather forced, because she bestowed a slow, teasing smile on him that made his heart pick up speed. By the devil, if she ever knew what she did to him, she would wield power over him.

  “Julian, you know that we are each telling stories that cannot be corroborated.”

  He stiffened.

  “I don’t believe you’re lying,” she quickly said, “but I just cannot hand over the Scandalous Lady and be done with it.”

  “If you do, your worries—and the danger to you—will be finished. I will proclaim the jewel found, so that everyone will know you don’t have it.”

  “You’re going to do that immediately?” she asked with doubt. “But you won’t ever know the identity of the thief that way, will you.”

  He said nothing.

  “Ah, but you don’t plan to announce the jewel’s recovery right now. A man like you cannot be content with anything less than the truth, especially if the scandal harmed your father.”

  For a moment, he relived the depth of the harm, but he wasn’t about to put those memories into words. He simply locked them away, as he was very good at doing.

  “So you want to know how the jewel got from your father to me,” she continued. “But I borrowed the item in question, and I must give it back to Roger, as I promised.”

  “He’s not the owner.”

  “He doesn’t know that. Perhaps we can talk to him and find out how he came by the diamond.” She smiled. “But of course you already planned to do that without me.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest, feeling a trap settle around him.

  “Together, we can solve both our dilemmas,” she said. “You agree to take me with you, and I’ll tell you where Roger has gone.”

  He came swiftly to his feet and approached the bed. “You know?”

  To her credit she didn’t cower or shy away from him. Instead, she rose slowly to her feet. They stood far too close together, staring at each other. “He told me.” She gave him a deep, knowing smile. “Do we have an agreement? I need your word, my lord.”

  “Now you trust my word?” he shot back. “Just moments ago you thought I was in league with two common thieves.”

  “I feel you’ve been truthful—with the things you’ve revealed.”

  He felt a reluctant sense of admiration. She saw far deeper into him than he wanted. She had surely led a privileged life compared to him, but there was a wisdom in her eyes that seemed well earned. His curiosity about her wouldn’t die any time soon.

  “So what shall it be, my lord?” she asked, touching his chest with a single finger, her manner saucy. “Will you accompany me to question the man from whom I borrowed the jewel?”

  He caught her hand. “This is dangerous, Rebecca. Not a social outing for a young miss.”

  “I know, but it’s also more exciting than anything I’ve ever done. I want to experience it all, Julian.” Her eyes gleamed in the candlelight.

  He wanted to refuse, to shake the answers out of her and send her back to the safety of London.

  But was he supposed to rip the diamond from around her neck? And how could he trust that she wouldn’t simply follow him? What made a gently bred woman want to brave danger, all for a jewel she wasn’t even connected to?

  And what made this same girl pose nude, revealing everything a young lady had been taught to save for marriage?

  And would she want to try other things, now that she’d been ruined?

  At last, he heaved a deep sigh. “Very well. You may accompany me, but you must agree to certain conditions.”

  She groaned and whirled away from him, going to the table to pour herself another tankard of ale from the pitcher. “From the beginning I’ve sensed you’re a man who thinks he’s in charge of everything—and everyone.”

  “And in this, I am. You could bring about our deaths with one wrong move.”

  “So could you,” she muttered, not meeting his eyes. “Go ahead, spell everything o
ut for me, even though I know what you’re going to say.”

  “You do.”

  “Of course I do! You want to make every decision. We have to follow your plans.”

  “I would certainly consider any suggestions on your part.”

  “How gracious of you, my lord!”

  But she spoke too loudly in an old inn with thin walls. He put a hand over her mouth, and she went still. He cocked his head, listening. On their arrival, the inn was vacant but for them, according to the register. But anyone could have arrived in the last hour or two.

  Quietly, he said, “It will be very important to keep to whatever story we’re going by.”

  She nodded. When he removed his hand, she looked guilty, murmuring, “Sorry.”

  And then she licked her lips, undoing all his own concentration. Night after night, he would be alone with her, this woman he’d seen nude in a painting. All he wanted to do was examine the real thing with his eyes and hands and mouth, all laid out before him like a feast.

  “Do you think someone heard me?” she asked breathlessly. “After all, if they believe you’re my husband, they might certainly believe I could call you ‘my lord’ with complete sarcasm.”

  “Very amusing. But this is serious, Rebecca.”

  “I know it is, and I will treat it that way. As long as you listen to my suggestions, and we make decisions by compromising—”

  “That wasn’t going to be one of the conditions.”

  She smiled and batted her lashes playfully. “Please?”

  “I agree to listen to you, and I agree to compromise, if I feel it won’t endanger us.”

  “Or the mission, sir?” she asked, saluting.

  He ignored her. “So now fulfill your end of the bargain. Tell me where Roger Eastfield has gone to visit his sick mother.”

  “Oh, you remembered the part about his mother, did you?”

  “I have a good memory, especially when the club proprietor was explaining the history of a new, scandalous painting.”

  It was her turn to roll her eyes. “Very well. He’s gone to Manchester.”

  “And if we could have stayed on the train, we would have eventually been there,” he said, briefly closing his eyes. “Is that where you meant to go?”

  “Not at first. I was simply running away using the only train ticket I had.”

  “Going to…”

  “Visit my Great-aunt Rianette in the Lake District.” She grimaced. “It was Susanna’s idea to separate so that it wouldn’t be so easy for you and your friends to consolidate your resources against us.”

  “My friends and I are in a wager against each other,” he reminded her.

  “I saw the way you were with each other last night.”

  “I think you didn’t want me to talk to your sister and cousin,” he said slowly. “I wonder why.”

  She suddenly gave a great yawn. “Do you know what time it is?”

  He took his watch out of his coat pocket, where he’d hidden it when he’d taken off his waistcoat. “Almost eleven o’clock.”

  “I’m suddenly very tired. I’ll surely sleep like the dead.”

  Was she telling him that—or herself?

  Chapter 9

  For Rebecca, the lone bed had begun to encroach more and more on her mind as their conversation waned. Julian was too honorable to try to seduce a virgin—and that was almost disappointing.

  What was wrong with her? she thought, taking another sip of ale. She was strangely parched.

  Julian plucked the tankard from her hand. “I think you’ve had enough.”

  “Trying to control me already?” she demanded.

  “Trying to make certain you don’t embarrass yourself.”

  “I would never—” She broke off, remembering her disappointment that he wouldn’t try to seduce her. Grudgingly, she admitted, “You’re right. The brew is rather potent.”

  He leaned over her. “Did I hear correctly? You admitted I’m right?”

  “About this,” she muttered. She looked at the bed, hands on her hips, then faced Julian again. “So what are we going to do about the sleeping arrangements? And if you say again that we’re pretending to be married—”

  His smile was slow and dangerous.

  One of the candles sputtered and went out, leaving the room just a bit darker. His shadow seemed enormous on the wall. But she wasn’t afraid of him. Afraid of herself, perhaps, for what went on between a man and a woman had always intrigued her.

  But she’d never truly felt the lure of it, the feelings that made couples risk everything to be together. Yet when Julian had almost kissed her in Lady Thurlow’s garden, she’d felt a power greater than herself, one that made her long for his touch. If that was a sampling of desire, then she should be more wary.

  “There is nowhere else to sleep,” Julian said. “I suggest we practice the ancient art of bundling.”

  “Bundling? We’re hardly courting.”

  “But the point of bundling was to lie in bed and simply talk, getting to know one another. We’d each have our own blanket.”

  “And we’re clothed,” she pointed out.

  A faint smile touched his lips. “We’re clothed.” His mood sobered. “We’ll have to be together night and day, Rebecca, and this won’t be the last time we sleep in the same bed. That jewel around your neck puts you in too much danger. Perhaps I’d better—”

  “No.” She smiled sweetly.

  “Very well,” he said with resignation. “I’ll step out again to leave you some privacy. I assume you will remain in the room this time.”

  “You have my word.”

  He nodded and departed.

  She let out her breath in a whoosh, feeling a bit light-headed from the ale. She spent the next several minutes struggling to unhook her gown so that she could be more comfortable, but she couldn’t reach most of the fastenings. She wished she had her toothbrush, she lamented, but resigned herself to only washing her face and hands. Then she remade the bed, laying out a blanket for each side, and crawled beneath hers.

  At first she pulled it up to her chin, then thought that made her appear frightened. She tried her waist, but that was too drafty—and might make him think undesirable things. At last she arranged it just above her chest, but with her arms lying on top of the blanket. Her corset cut into her flesh uncomfortably, but she pushed it from her mind.

  Should she pretend to be asleep? But that seemed cowardly, and surely she couldn’t carry off the deception.

  After a soft knock, the door opened. Julian returned, his coat hung over his arm. He’d rolled his shirtsleeves up his forearms and opened his collar wider. His face was still damp.

  “You could have washed here,” she said softly.

  “I didn’t mind.”

  She watched with interest as he removed his boots—she knew some gentlemen needed their valet’s help for such a task. Should she volunteer? But he managed it himself. As he sat on a stool, facing away from her, his back looked so broad. He obviously didn’t need padding in his coat to define the width of his shoulders. His height was inherited, but how had he gotten so very muscular, managing an estate and business investments? She wondered if he fenced or boxed or even wrestled—

  And then he was blowing out the candles.

  After telling herself not to tense, she promptly did so anyway. She thought about how she would tell the story of this journey to Susanna and Elizabeth later, relating it as an exciting adventure.

  But in the pit of her stomach, it didn’t seem adventurous so much as daring, filled with the excitement of the unknown. She lay on her back, fighting to control her breathing, then exhaled on a gasp as he seated himself and the bed sank beneath his weight. She barely kept from rolling into him. Then he stretched out, and their shoulders brushed, making her jump.

  “This bed is not very wide,” he murmured in the dark.

  “No, it’s not.” She could have groaned at the breathless sound of her voice. What must he be thinking? To
him, she was a woman of such loose virtue that she’d pose nude. Then she’d insisted on traveling with him, and hadn’t even blinked when he’d claimed them married. Did he assume…?

  After several minutes of tense silence, he cleared his throat. “So how did you hear about bundling?”

  She was grateful for the distraction of conversation, even if it was about sharing a bed. “I read about it, of course. My mother may want me to marry well and soon, but she would never mention this as a method of courtship.”

  “It does seem…different here in the dark. I believe that was the point, allowing couples to relax after a strenuous day of work and just learn to know each other.”

  “You don’t want to learn to know me,” she said, staring up at the dark ceiling.

  “And now you think to read minds?”

  She heard the amusement in his voice. “Julian, I know you don’t want me here, that I’m forcing myself on you. You don’t have to try so hard to dissipate the tension between us. We can just sleep.”

  “So you feel tension?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, even though moving her shoulder meant she rubbed against his arm. “Of course there’s tension. We’re sleeping in the same bed! But you don’t have to worry about me. I will hardly demand that you marry me for such behavior. I am frankly in no hurry to marry at all.”

  “I have never heard such a thing from a marriageable young lady.”

  “Oh, do not doubt me. I may have gone along with my mother’s wishes when I first left the schoolroom, but that was only because I’d never been to many parties as a girl, even ones for other children. Dressing up and flirting and dancing were all a new experience to me.”

  “And the experience grew old,” he said dryly.

  She gave a soft laugh. “You sound sympathetic. Perhaps we feel the same about some things. I’ve told you about Susanna’s sketching. Mama has given up on her becoming engaged, and for a while I thought Susanna was relieved. But now I’m not so certain.”

  “Because of Leo Wade?”

  “Heavens, no. Her change in attitude started with our brother’s miraculous return. She seems willing to give men a chance again, since Matthew and Emily are so happy. But when it seemed like she was determined to be a spinster, Mama focused all her zealous attention on me. So far, it has been too difficult to tell her I’ve changed my mind.”