Scandalous Again: Switching Places #1

by Christina Dodd

  “That they will.” So would Madeline. It sounded as if Thomasin loved her Jeffy because of his looks and because he thought she was pretty. Without meeting him, Madeline couldn’t make up her mind, but she thought Thomasin could do better. Madeline was very good at arranging matches, so she would look around—

  Her gaze skidded to Gabriel and, for just a moment, she closed her eyes. Good at making matches? Yes, but not her own. She turned her head, so when she opened her eyes, she wasn’t looking at him. “Do you and Jeffy ever disagree?”

  Thomasin laughed, a chiming peal of merriment. “Absolutely not. We’re perfectly in accord about every subject.”

  “Every subject?”

  Thomasin gave a sigh and rolled her eyes. “Well . . . he wants to marry and stay in the neighborhood so he can help his father. I think his mother and That Woman will drive me mad giving me advice, but I want him to be happy, so we’ll live there. I’ll argue first, and he will yield concessions.” With a grin, Thomasin fluttered her lashes at Madeline. “I’m not so fragile as I appear, you know.”

  “No, you’re not.” Irresistibly, Madeline’s gaze was drawn to Gabriel again. Was that what she should have done? Compromised?

  But no. He knew how she felt about gambling. He had betrayed her.

  She looked again at Thomasin, her bonnet ribbons fluttering in the strengthening sea breeze. Thomasin’s dewy beauty and melting blue eyes hid a mixture of maturity and childishness. She loved a man who was unsuitable, yet prepared intelligent plans to make their marriage work. Her cleverness made Madeline’s love seem shallow, her reaction childish.

  “I have only a few more men to entrance.” Wrapping her arm through Madeline’s, Thomasin said, “To please my parents, I should approach the titled lords who have a great deal of money.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “I’ll feel safer with the older gentlemen.” Thomasin gave a little skip and pulled Madeline toward Gabriel. “Come on, Madeline. I’m ready for a challenge. Let’s talk to Lord Campion!”

  Chapter Ten

  “My lord, you look lonely.” Lady Thomasin dimpled as she came up beside him, dragging Madeline.

  Gabriel raised his eyebrows. He’d noted the young lady’s flirtatiousness, but never had he imagined she would try her wiles on him.

  Then he observed the expression on Madeline’s face. Never had Madeline imagined Lady Thomasin would try her wiles on him, either, and clearly she didn’t like this new development. Reason enough for Gabriel to encourage Lady Thomasin.

  “I would be delighted with your company, Lady Thomasin.” He bowed to the girl. In a conspicuous afterthought, he added, “And of your company, too, Miss de Lacy.”

  Madeline gave him her tight, close-lipped smile.

  Good. Give her a taste of the frustration that he had suffered for so long. He waited until Lady Thomasin walked at his right hand and Madeline had fallen in behind her. Then he turned swiftly to Madeline. “No, please, Miss de Lacy, walk beside me. I find it makes me nervous to have a woman such as yourself dog my footsteps.”

  “Yes, Madeline, join us,” Thomasin said.

  When it looked as if Madeline would refuse, he took her elbow and moved her to walk beside Thomasin. “Please, Miss de Lacy. Don’t be shy.”

  Shy was the one thing Madeline had never been, and she flung him a contemptuous glance as he took his place on the other side of Thomasin.

  Oblivious to the undercurrents, Thomasin said, “We’ll have a jolly time on our way to the cliffs. Madeline, you can tell us all about your adventures abroad with the duchess of Magnus.”

  “That would be jolly indeed,” Gabriel said with overhardy enthusiasm. “Her Grace is quite high at hand. You can regale us with tales of her headstrong behavior.”

  He saw Madeline’s hand lift in a fist. If they’d been alone, he didn’t doubt he’d now be fending off a clout.

  Damn, it was good to see Maddie again . . . to come alive again. When she had left him, he’d been lost to anything but duty to his estates and his country—and his brother had paid the price. Then Jerry had died, and Gabriel’s heart had shriveled. He had felt nothing: not pleasure, not happiness, not anger, not pain. His soul had been a wasteland, abandoned by love and unbound by duty. He’d been alone as no man should ever be.

  Now he was aware of every heartbeat, every breath of air. He wanted nothing so much as to turn the full force of his concentration on the pursuit of Madeline. Instead this business with Rumbelow took precedence. But when it was over, Madeline could count on one hand the days of freedom left to her.

  Gabriel gazed at Rumbelow as he moved among the guests. So many guests. So many innocents. Gabriel liked Rumbelow’s setup less and less. Last night MacAllister had tried to sneak into the dowager’s house, and discovered nothing except that buckshot stung when it met one’s posterior.

  Tonight Gabriel would do his own investigation.

  In the meantime, he had Madeline to entertain him.

  Her fist dropped. “Her Grace is all that is kind.”

  “Yes, sir, when I met her at the inn, I found her delightful. She seemed almost shy, and very gentle, which gave me hope that I might be as kind a lady as she someday.” Thomasin clapped her hand over her mouth, and her wide eyes rounded. “But Lord Campion, I forgot! You said you were betrothed to her at one time, and the subject of Her Grace must be painful to you. Pray forgive me.”

  Faith, but the child was a pleasant creature! “There’s nothing to forgive. The subject of the duchess is of only mild interest to me. She broke her word to marry me, and I never expected that. Her family takes pride in always doing as they promise, you see, and I hope she suffers guilt for ending a centuries-long tradition, as well as for backing out of our marriage at the last moment.”

  “And breaking your heart.” Thomasin sounded so sympathetic, and so astonished. “I met the duchess. She seemed so pleasant. I would have never thought she could be so dishonorable, and so callus, too.”

  Madeline snorted indelicately.

  “But Miss de Lacy is not the duchess, and I think it would be delightful to hear about her travels.” He looked across the wide-eyed Thomasin to the only woman who could ever stir his blood to madness. “Where did you go when you left England, Miss de Lacy?”

  Madeline was blunt to the point of rudeness. “Turkey.”

  “As far away as possible,” he said in a voice of approval sure to chafe. “Good idea.”

  “Surely your geography is better than that,” Madeline said. “Turkey is scarcely on the other side of the world.”

  “But it is in the far reaches of the Mediterranean—and no place for two ladies traveling alone. I fear the duchess’s headstrong flight put you into danger.” That truth still had the power to send him into a frenzy of ineffectual worry.

  “Not at all. Her Grace is quite resourceful and when we left Turkey, it was under Turkish escort.”

  Thomasin clapped her hands. “Impressive! They must have greatly admired Her Grace.”

  Gabriel knew better. “My God, what kind of trouble did you cause?” He held up a hand. “No, don’t tell me now. I would be tempted to do a violence.”

  Thomasin giggled self-consciously. “Surely not, Lord Campion.”

  Madeline primmed her mouth like the self-righteous prig she most definitely was not. “Lord Campion is a man given to violent outbursts.”

  “You have no idea.” As if he would ever harm a hair on her head.

  The walk was long, and two of Rumbelow’s carriages came by to pick up the ladies—and gentlemen—whose boots pinched. The number of walkers thinned. As they neared the coast, the road grew more isolated.

  “Where did you go from Turkey?” Thomasin asked.

  “Italy.” Madeline tucked a strand of hair into her bonnet. “Tuscany, especially, was beautiful. Then Greece. I adored the food there.”

  “I suspect you adored the food everywhere.” Long ago, he had teased Madeline about her appetite and her willingness to try any
dish so long as it didn’t run away. Now he smiled at the memory, and at the thought of Madeline making her gustatory tour of Europe.

  “Not so much in Germany. They haven’t the elegance with sauces the Southern Europeans possess. The French, especially—” She stopped guiltily.

  “You were in France?” His assumption of amiability ill concealed his exasperation.

  “Only briefly.” Madeline looked everywhere but at him. “I thought we might be able to reach Marseille, and from there, home.”

  “Does the duchess of Magnus depend so much on your advice?” Thomasin looked awestruck and dismayed. “The advice you’ve given me has been marvelous, but entering Napoleon’s France where he has ordered all English citizens arrested seems foolhardy.”

  “So you would think,” Gabriel agreed. “What, pray tell, made the duchess believe she could cross hostile territory without arrest?”

  Madeline began to resemble a wolf at bay, her head down, her hackles raised, her arms stiff at her side. “All of Europe was hostile territory. Napoleon was marching and capturing every city, and the French fleet was readying itself for battle. We found no safe harbors, no reliable roads.”

  Thomasin prayerfully clasped her hands. “Madeline, you and Her Grace were so valiant.”

  “Imprudent, rather,” Gabriel said.

  “If you felt so strongly about it, you could have come after Her Grace.” At that betraying observation, Madeline bit her lip.

  So she had noticed his absence, had she? Good. If he had suffered the agony of wondering if she was well, so should she have been looking over her shoulder, wondering if and when he would appear. “I could have.”

  “That’s unfair, Madeline. He had a duty to organize the coastal defense,” Thomasin said. “I heard Papa talking about it. Lord Campion organized all of the north coast, didn’t you, my lord?”

  Surprised at Thomasin’s support, he looked down at the child. If she was willing to take on the duty of chiding Madeline, then she wasn’t the fledgling she appeared.

  “I did.” He’d done more than that. In his yacht, he’d ferried spies into France and spirited Englishmen out of France—but that task was not yet ended, and he would never speak of it.

  Ignoring both Madeline’s startled glance and Thomasin’s decisive nod, he looked around. Here the land shook off the effects of civilization and, incited by the sea breeze, became wild and untamed. The grasses got coarser, the trees grew stunted. His boots sank into the sand and gravel on the road, then the road disappeared. The walkers broke out of the trees into rolling hills covered with sedge. A series of red and blue tents had been pitched, providing shelter for the tables and chairs now occupied by the gamblers and their wives. Some of the younger generation had seated themselves on blankets spread on the ground, and some walked along the cliffs where, just below, the waves rolled, the horizon became a thin blue line and the ocean met the sky.

  It took Gabriel a minute to realize they’d lost Madeline. Turning back, he saw her standing stock-still, her face alive with pleasure. Her eyes danced as she gazed upward at the soaring birds, and her arms lifted slightly as if she would fly with them. The wind plucked her haphazardly coiffed hair from beneath her bonnet and plastered her sturdy gown of light green against every curve of her figure. The shining black strands blew behind her, and she was more magnificent than any bare-breasted figure on a sailing ship. She gloried in the wildness of nature—and nature gloried in her.

  His heart and his mind leaped at the sight of her joy. He wanted to embrace her, to take her down on the rough, sandy ground and cover her with his body. To let the breeze caress them as he caressed her.

  He laughed shortly, harshly.

  Thomasin wouldn’t understand, nor would any of the other women who strolled and sat, parasols raised to protect their fair complexions.

  The men would understand, though. A quick glance around proved he wasn’t the only man who had noticed Madeline’s bliss. If he weren’t careful, she would discover how easy it was to escape his influence in the arms of another man. Hurrying back to her, he took her hand. In his pleasantest tone, he said, “Come, Miss de Lacy. I don’t intend to lose you.”

  She looked at him blankly, lost in the exhilaration of standing so close to the edge of eternity.

  He saw the moment she recognized him. Her gaze sharpened, her chin lifted. Their pasts, and all the pain and dissension, possessed her mind. “You never had me.”

  Softly, he said, “I did.”

  “Not really. Not in the way that matters.”

  That, he knew, was the truth. But he would not fail again. With his hand on the small of her back, he drew her forward, back to Lady Thomasin, who stood watching their enmity in open bewilderment. “Miss de Lacy,” he said, “I have a word of warning for you.”

  He knew Madeline fell in beside Thomasin for no better reason than she couldn’t gracefully back away—and because she realized he’d put her back in place if she dared drop back again. “A word of warning? From you, my lord?” Madeline laughed, but he recognized the undertone of scorn. “What would that be?”

  “I find Mr. Rumbelow’s servants to be less wholesome than one might hope. I suppose it to be the result of his hosting a bachelor household, and I’m sure when he picks a young lady to wed, the matter will be remedied.” He imagined no such thing, but he cast a smile at Lady Thomasin that suggested he had total confidence in their host.

  It wouldn’t do to alarm Rumbelow’s guests. Not yet. “In the meantime, Miss de Lacy, I would suggest you confine your flirting to the gentlemen of the party.”

  At last he had made Madeline truly angry. She stepped out, her long legs eating up the ground. Her bosom rose and fell with fury. He only wished she wore a gown with a less modest neckline—but then, he was a disreputable male beast with lascivious tendencies. Tendencies directed solely at Madeline.

  Thomasin trotted to keep up. “I, too, told her that.”

  Ruthlessly, Madeline interrupted the girl. “Lord Campion, I hardly think a recommendation from you, a notorious gambler, can influence my choice of persons with whom to associate.”

  “But Madeline, Lord Campion has only your best interests at heart,” Lady Thomasin said.

  Matching Madeline’s stride, Gabriel took another poke at her composure. “While your adjourn abroad might have made you more susceptible to disreputable characters, I think you’ll find that here in England, we expect our young ladies to associate with gentlemen of their own class.”

  Madeline glared over the top of Thomasin’s head at Gabriel. “Yet who of the gentlemen here isn’t under the curse of undisciplined gambling, resulting in disaster time and again?”

  In her soft voice, Thomasin said, “But Madeline, many gentlemen here aren’t gambling. They’ve come with their fathers, at Mr. Rumbelow’s invitation, accompanying their mothers or sisters for a social—”

  Gabriel interrupted, his gaze never leaving Madeline. “Don’t bother with logic, Lady Thomasin. Miss de Lacy is famous—or should I say infamous—for being unreasonable.”

  “Lord Campion!” Lady Thomasin looked wildly between the two of them as they strode straight for the cliffs. “That was uncalled-for!”

  He barely heard her. He saw only Madeline. “My dear Miss de Lacy,” he drawled, “not every man who gambles is undisciplined. Some men gamble with a specific goal in mind, and once that goal is reached, they quit.”

  “Until they are again drawn into the game by their own weakness,” Madeline retorted.

  “You two are making me uneasy with your accusations,” Lady Thomasin protested.

  “Perhaps some females should have more sense than to judge a man when they’ve not seen him for four years and they know nothing about his circumstances or motivations.”

  “I’ll just stop here and let you two go on.” Lady Thomasin stumbled to a halt.

  Madeline walked on. So did Gabriel.

  Breathing fire, Madeline said, “This particular man cared so little for me
he used the very methods I despise to win himself a fortune.”

  “Ah, but that’s not what irks you, my darling. It’s that when I hold a fortune, I can be more than your dependent, and you have a man you can’t control.”

  “Like my father.”

  He caught her arm and pulled her to a stop. “I am not your father.”

  They reached the edge of the cliff, both still seething with fury.

  “You don’t have to tell me that. I know who you are.”

  “No, you don’t.” He held on to her, stepped closer, stared into her eyes. “You never gave me a chance to prove the kind of husband I could be. You were too afraid.”

  “Afraid? Afraid? How dare you? I was never afraid.”

  “Afraid I would be just like him. Uncaring, superficial, leaving you to make every decision and pay every dun.”

  She sputtered incoherently.

  “My darling, did you really think you could manage me with an allowance? I’m like a wild stallion. I’ll allow a woman to put the reins on me, and take her on the ride of her life, but only with my consent.” At last he let her draw back. “You never understood that.”

  Blue eyes wide, she stared at him. He could see the signs. She was wary now. If they were alone, he would give her more reason to fear him.

  But people were watching, the two of them had already made a spectacle of themselves and Gabriel didn’t care to have Rumbelow know how very much this woman meant to him. Softly, he said, “Run along, Maddie. You have a lady to chaperone.”

  Madeline glanced around, realized Thomasin was missing, and, with a gasp of dismay, darted back, away from the edge of the cliff.

  Too late. Before it was over, he swore to himself she would tumble over—and land in his arms.

  Chapter Eleven

  Idly, Thomasin ran sand through her fingers and watched as the servants cleared away the remains of the meal and the ladies whipped out their sketch pads. “Do I have to sketch? It’s a dead bore.”