Scandal of the Season (9 page)

“Of course not,” he muttered. Because in order for him to touch her she would need to be completely foxed. He turned away from the scent of her alluring perfume.

“I need to change my clothing,” she said with a sigh.

“Go behind the screen.”

“I cannot get out of my stays without assistance. You told me Lady Farleigh would supply a lady’s maid.”

Oh, dear God, he was going to have to untie her stays, watch as her pearly white skin was bared for his lecherous gaze. Being this close to her was going to be the death of him. He’d been a fool not to quench his blatant desires with one of Lady Whitely’s girls last night. Then he might be able to survive this trial.

“I will unlace your stays,” he finally managed to get out.

She glared back at him. “I’m sure you have had much practice.”

“As a matter of fact, I have.” He pointed to the screen. “Now get your night clothes.”

She removed a heavy flannel nightgown and glanced back at him.

“Where is the nightgown I bought for you?”

“It is in my trunk. Not that I will ever wear that in front of you.”

With the wary look she leveled him, he understood her nervousness. “Wear what you want to bed. I will do nothing more than unlace your stays,” he said softly. “You have my word.”

“Excellent. I have the word of a rake, whoremonger, and gambler. I’m certain to have no worries.” She stomped behind the screen and added, “I also need your assistance with the buttons on my gown.”

He groaned softly.

Anthony walked behind the screen and raised his hands to the back of her gown. He slipped the buttons through their holes one at a time. Slowly the pearly skin of her back was exposed to his hungry gaze until he reached the last button. His hands shook as he slid the fabric off her shoulders.

“I can remove my dress,” she whispered in a hoarse voice.

If only she was as affected by this as he. Blood pounded in his veins as he waited for her to remove her dress. Bloody hell, this was madness, he thought.

“Can you unlace the stays now?”

He could, and he could remove them along with her shift, then lay her on the bed, and make love to her all night. Only he could do none of those things. Quickly, he unlaced her stays.

“There,” he said and walked back by the bed. He grabbed the bedpost and sighed.

“Thank you.”

The sound of clothes rustling forced his imagination into erotic dreams of her naked body. He heard her footsteps come nearer. He didn’t want to see her in her nightgown. It was wrong. Even if it was flannel.

“Are you all right?” she asked. “You’re holding on to the post like you’re about to topple over.”

“I’m perfectly well,” he managed to say. Finally, he peaked around to see her body covered in flannel from neck to toe.

She laughed. “I thought for a moment you were going to tell me this nightgown would never do for a mistress.”

She just had to put the idea of her in a sensual nightgown back into his head.

“You are right. That gown would never do for a real mistress. But you are only an imitation so that nightgown is more than appropriate.”

“And an imitation mistress is all I will ever be,” she whispered.

Victoria awoke slowly, trying to determine where she was laying. She blinked her eyes again and noticed Somerton in the chair by the fireplace with his eyes closed. Sitting up, the pounding in her head increased. Why had she thought three glasses of wine would help things yesterday?

With a groan, she tossed the covers off her and quietly picked out her clothing for the day. If she worked with haste, she might be dressed before he woke. She glanced over at Somerton again and sighed. His rumpled clothes told her that he’d slept in the chair rather than in the bed with her. She longed to reach over and touch the dark hairs covering his jaw. But she wasn’t his lover or mistress and had no right. Instead, she marched behind the screen to dress.

“What time is it?” his sleepy voice asked.

“Just after seven,” Victoria replied as she tied her front lacing stays.

After foolishly wearing back-lacing stays yesterday, she’d learned her lesson. Having Somerton that close and touching her bare skin was not something she could repeat. It had taken every ounce of control not to turn around and kiss him last night. She was only here to do a job. Her lustful emotions would have to subside.

She heard Somerton rustling around the room. His footsteps seemed to stop. Unable to contain her curiosity, she glanced around the screen to see him staring out the window.

“Please tell me the snow stopped,” she said.

“It did. We should be all right this morning but we’ll have to go slowly.”

“Why did Lord Farleigh decide to have a party in the winter?”

Somerton shook his head. “He has this romanticized idea that the Christmas season should be celebrated throughout the month of December.”

“Well, that is odd indeed.”

“Wait until you see his home,” Somerton added with a shake of his head.

“Why?”

“Have you ever heard of the German custom of bringing an evergreen into the home and placing candles on it?”

Fully dressed, Victoria walked from behind the screen. “A tree covered with candles, inside the house? How odd! And sounds particularly dangerous if you ask me.”

“I agree.” Somerton rummaged through his bag for a clean shirt. “I don’t think that custom will ever be embraced by sensible people.”

Victoria waited while Somerton washed and changed his clothes. She didn’t want to think about him being possibly naked with only a fabric screen between them. Yet, her mind couldn’t stop thinking about it. The dratted man was far too handsome for her senses.

She closed her eyes and thought about what her friends would say if they knew she was in a room alone with Somerton. Smiling, she could hear Jennette tell her to seduce the man. Avis would agree. Elizabeth might be more cautious but would most likely tell her the same thing.

But what would Sophie think? Of all her friends, Victoria had always felt the closest to Sophie. Perhaps it was the fact that Sophie’s upbringing was only slightly better than hers. And not as good as Victoria’s pretend upbringing, which all her friends believed was true.

“Everything all right?”

Victoria blinked her eyes open and then repressed a sigh. Dressed in his black jacket and trousers, the man looked dark and entirely too handsome. “Why do you ask?”

He smirked like only Somerton could. “You had your eyes closed.”

“I was thinking of my friends, nothing more.”

“Ah, I thought you might be regretting the three glasses of wine.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “I already did that.”

Somerton chuckled softly. “Then I believe the rest of the trip shall be a nice quiet ride.”

“That it shall.” Now she just had to figure out how to resist the man when they actually had to sleep together.

Anthony tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for the groomsman to open the carriage door. After another six hours closely enclosed with Victoria, he needed room to breathe without the tempting scent of her filling his nostrils. Finally, the door opened and he clamored out. He held out his hand and steeled himself for the shock of excitement that skipped up his arm every time he touched her.

She placed her hand in his and there it was again.

After stepping down, she gasped. “That can’t really be Farleigh’s home,” she turned to stare at him, “is it?”

Anthony glanced at the light brown granite home and then back to her. “Of course, this is his home.”

She tilted her head. “I mean, someone actually lives in this place?”

“Well, yes,” his patience getting the best of him, “Farleigh.”

Victoria only shook her head.

He started to take a step but stopped when she didn’t move with him. “What is wrong?”

“Look at the size of this place,” she whispered. “It’s as big as a castle.”

Anthony glanced back at the house again and shrugged. “It’s truly not that big. My father’s home in Dorset is larger than this.”

Her mouth gaped. “Your father’s house is larger? What does he do with all the space?”

“Mostly he keeps the place closed up.”

“What an incredible waste,” she mumbled. She took a step forward and sighed.

He finally understood why she was acting this way. “You have never been inside a home like this, have you?”

“Never. The closest thing I have ever been in is Elizabeth’s home in London.”

While the ducal townhome was large for London, it was insignificant when compared to most of the country estates of the
ton
. “Victoria, you must not appear in awe of this place. Everyone would expect that as my mistress you are a woman of some means.”

Her face reddened slightly but she nodded her agreement.

“If you would like, once we get to our room, you can gush about the place to me.”

“Thank you, Somerton.”

He smiled down at her. “Very well then, Mrs. Smith. Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

The snow covered gravel crunched under their boots as they walked toward the door. A butler opened the door and ushered them into the warm house. Anthony glanced down at Victoria and suppressed a smile. Her look of awe outside had turned to ennui as they entered the hall.

“Good afternoon, my lord,” the butler said and bowed to Victoria. “Good afternoon, ma’am. The footman will take you to your room. Dinner is at seven but sherry will be served in the salon at six.”

“Thank you,” Anthony replied and then followed a footman upstairs.

The footman opened the door and allowed them to enter the suite of rooms. A small salon, with a sofa and two chairs, preceded the large room with an enormous mahogany bed taking up most of the space. At least that bed was large enough for them both to sleep in without touching each other.

“Your trunks will be brought up presently, my lord.”

“Thank you.”

Victoria walked to the window and looked out at the large expanse of grounds. As the door closed behind the footman, Anthony expected her to start talking about the house. Instead, she remained quiet.

Slowly, he walked closer to her. “Is everything all right?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“What is wrong?”

“Everything! I don’t belong here. This place is for ladies and I am not one.”

He turned her to face him. “Maybe Victoria Seaton is not a lady, but Mrs. Anne Smith is. Do not forget that.”

She closed her eyes and nodded. “I shall do my best.”

Grabbing her shoulders, he gave a little shake until she opened her eyes. “You shall do much better than that. You will make everyone in the rooms downstairs believe you are Mrs. Smith, and Mrs. Smith is the widow of a squire.”

“I know my job,” she retorted, pulling out of his grip. “That doesn’t mean I have to feel comfortable with it.”

“Exactly what are you not comfortable with?” he demanded.

She turned away and mumbled, “Pretending to be your mistress.”

“And why is that?” She’d all but admitted to having been a prostitute. Why would pretending to be his mistress be all that difficult?

“It matters not. I will do my job, and you will pay me my wages when we are finished.”

Anthony released a frustrated sigh. “Victoria, just for once, could you be truthful with me?”

“Very well.” She walked back to the window and glanced out. “Because I cannot abide being in the same room as you.”

Why did this surprise him? He’d wondered how the woman could stand to be near him after what happened ten years ago. Now at least, she’d admitted the truth.

“You have nothing to fear from me, Victoria. I shall do nothing to cause you any pain. In fact, I will do my best not to come into the room until you are asleep.”

Turning back toward him, she grimaced. “We both know that will only cause talk. I will get over my abhorrence of the situation and make the best of it.”

“How will you do that?”

“I shall endeavor to enjoy the company and the food.”

He stepped closer. “And if I am forced to touch you in front of others?”

One blond eyebrow arched at him. “I shall do my best to act as if I am enjoying it.”

It suddenly struck him that she was lying. Perhaps it was his gambler’s intuition, but he knew a bluff when he saw one. And Victoria Seaton was bluffing.

“And if I’m forced to kiss you?” The soft tone of his voice underlied the anger he felt at her lying to him again.

“I shall be forced to endure it.”

“Shall we see just how you do at enduring my kisses?”

Before she could back away, he pulled her close and brought his lips down on hers. The anger that he felt at her lying softened as her lips opened slightly. Taking advantage, he deepened the kiss, savored the tentative touch of her tongue against his.

She pressed her body to his and lifted her arms to wrap around his neck. He still had some lingering doubts about her bluffing. For some reason she acted as if she wanted to push him away, but her kiss told him the opposite. But was her reaction a learned response from her profession? Did she like to play the innocent prostitute?

As she responded to him, his body begged him to walk her to the bed. He couldn’t do that while there was still the incident of ten years ago between them. She would hate him forever if he did. And for some odd reason, he didn’t want that.

Slowly he lifted away from her and smiled down at her bemused face. The look on her face was not the look of a woman enduring his kiss.

He lifted her chin upward. “If you keep kissing me like that,
I
might even believe you want me.”

At precisely six o’clock, they closed the door to their room and walked silently down the steps. The past three hours had been awash with tension for Victoria. After a kiss that nearly made her knees give out, she had attempted to stay away from him. But in such close quarters, there wasn’t much she could do.

He had stretched across the bed in a wholly inappropriate manner and napped for an hour. She watched the rise and fall of his chest as he slept. With his eyes closed, his face relaxed and he looked even more handsome. She had to get that image out of her head. The man was a rake. And her employer for the moment, nothing else.

“You look quite beautiful this evening,” he said as they reached the grand staircase.

“Thank you.”

“Do not show your nervousness, Victoria,” he whispered in her ear.

The heat of his breath sent shivers down her back. “I will not forget what I’m here to do.”

“Then show me.”

Victoria plastered a smile on her face and gave him a loving look. She reached over and touched his jaw with her gloved hand. His hazel eyes darkened to an emerald green.

“You have nothing to worry about, Somerton. I know my part.”

“Too well,” he muttered.

Stupid man thought she was some kind of strumpet. Perhaps she should tell him the truth, but for the moment, she wouldn’t. She needed the little distance they had between each other for her own sanity. Although after that kiss, she had almost told him everything. She didn’t understand his reaction to her. He wasn’t the type of man who should care if she’d been with several men. From what she’d heard, he frequented Lady Whitely’s house regularly.

“Let’s go,” he said and held out his arm to her.

She looped her arm with his and ignored the sensual awareness running up her arm. As they walked down the stairs, she kept the smile on her face and tried to pretend he really was her protector.

They entered the room together and heads turned to look at the woman on Somerton’s arm. The men smiled back at her appreciatively while some of the women glared in jealousy at her.

One man approached them slowly. With her arm linked with Somerton’s, she felt him tense as the man came closer.

“Somerton, interesting to see you here. I can only assume you could not resist Hannah’s invitation?”

“Farleigh, some day perhaps you will get over your jealousy.” Somerton led her away without even an introduction.

“That was rather rude,” she commented. “Especially to our host.”

“Leave it be, Mrs. Smith.”

He moved them off to the edge of the room. Victoria scanned the room for anyone she might know. Thankfully, Somerton seemed to be correct in his assumption that no one would know her.

Lord Farleigh approached them again, only this time with a beautiful woman with auburn hair leading him to them. The woman smiled at Somerton in an entirely inappropriate manner. Victoria glanced up to see a smile of appreciation on Somerton’s face.

She tried to ignore the stab of envy that attacked her. This woman was one of the most beautiful that Victoria had ever seen. The lady carried herself in a way that showed her confidence to everyone in the room.

“Somerton,” she said in a breathy tone.

“Lady Farleigh, it is a pleasure to see you again.”

Lady Farleigh looked down at Victoria. “And who is this little gem?”

“Lord and Lady Farleigh, this is Mrs. Anne Smith.” He pulled her slightly closer. “Anne, Lord and Lady Farleigh.”

Victoria curtsied with her eyes locked on the earl’s. She knew enough that mistresses were always looking for their next protector, and she could act no differently. Besides, after the interaction between Lady Farleigh and Somerton, she wanted a little retribution. Lord Farleigh took her hand and kissed it.