Something Scandalous (5 page)

She hated it when he remained calm. He was so much more malleable when angry. “No one else can give you what you want, Anthony.”

A dimple slowly creased his cheek. “I’m not so certain you can give me what I need, Sophie. If you could, why make me wait over a year for it?”

“I promised you the woman’s name after we help Elizabeth.”

“That was six months ago.” Finally his voice rose, illustrating his true feelings.

“I never expected it would take this long for the duke to arrive.” Sophie had started to doubt her own powers of prediction.

“Tell me something, Sophie,” Somerton drawled. “Do you really know the woman’s name?”

“Yes,” she answered honestly.

“And you promise you will give me her name once we finish with Elizabeth?”

“Yes,” she replied, looking down at the rug. He didn’t need to know that it might take a bit longer for him to figure out her true identity.

“Before I agree, I want one answer.” Somerton stood and walked toward the window. Drawing the curtain back, he glanced out.

“Very well,” she whispered.

“What is the real reason you made me wait this long?”

“Because neither of you are ready.”

“Ready for what?”

She stared at his hazel eyes, which appeared greener when he was angry. “For what is between you.”

“You have no idea what is between us,” he retorted.

Sophie continued to stare at him until he looked away. A touch of redness tinted his cheeks.

“I know exactly what is between you.”

Elizabeth waited until after dinner to approach William. She’d been so appalled by the children’s manners during the meal, she almost left before finishing. These children needed more than just nice clothing. While Lucy and Ellie took control of the younger ones, Elizabeth followed Will to his study. She inhaled deeply before walking over to the table in the corner.

“Would you like a brandy, William?”

“Yes.” He never even looked up from his papers.

How was she to use her wiles and flirt if the man ignored her? She poured a glass of brandy for him and a bit of sherry for herself. Perhaps the sherry would give her courage. Clearing her throat, she waited for him to look up and take the snifter.

He leaned back and appeared to notice her for the first time tonight. His fiery gaze burned her, making her mouth gape. Slowly, she reached out with the glass in her hand. His fingers grazed hers when he touched the glass and a spark of excitement skipped up her arm.

Why, after all these years, did the first man she felt an attraction to have to be this mulish man? He grabbed the snifter quickly and stood to his full height.

“Let’s sit by the fireplace tonight,” he said, and then walked toward two velvet chairs close to the fire.

So much for having a desk between them. She’d assumed the gap would make her feel more comfortable. Now she would be able to see all of him. From his wide shoulders to his muscular chest to his…

Elizabeth shook her head to clear her thoughts away. After a brief moment of hesitation, she followed, and took the seat across from him.

“I believe you wished to speak to me about something?” he asked, then sipped his brandy.

She watched as he moved the glass to his full lips, and then her gaze moved to his throat. Never had she felt so mesmerized by a man before now. She had the oddest desire to touch his face, feel the heat of his body, and kiss his lips. Oh, dear!

“Elizabeth?”

“Yes,” she said abruptly. Remembering Sophie’s advice, she smiled at him in her most enticing manner. “I wished to speak with you about the children.”

She glanced at the open door and frowned. Anyone might come upon them and overhear their conversation; she walked to the door and closed it.

“Is there a problem with the children? Did Ethan put a frog in your bed?”

“No,” she exclaimed. “Would he do such a thing?”

William shrugged. “More likely to one of his sisters than you.”

Now she needed to remember to check her bed every night. Sitting in the chair again, she said, “It is their manners. And their clothes. And their education. And—”

“There is nothing wrong with those children.”

Oh, dear, she’d raised his anger. “Not entirely. But there is room for improvement. Children always need guidance, and to learn from adults.”

He rose and paced by the fireplace. “It certainly isn’t the boys’ fault that their mother died when Sarah was three. Nor is it their fault that my father neglected them after their mother’s death.”

“Of course not,” she whispered. Her heart went out to him and his siblings. “It must have been very hard on all of you when she died.”

“My father’s health declined shortly after my stepmother’s death. Personally, I think after he lost my mother and then my stepmother, he wanted to be done with life. He’d loved them both so much.”

“I am sorry,” Elizabeth whispered.

“The last two years of his life were spent mostly in bed. I suggested we return to England to get better care for him, but he refused.” He glanced away. “He wanted to die near his wives. After he died, I took over the care of the children, with Alicia’s help.”

“It must have been very difficult.”

“I did my best,” he muttered.

“I am certain you did,” she replied gently.

She stood and placed her hand on his arm. Ignoring the sensation of touching him, she added, “But now you are in London and no matter how much you might not want to be, you are the duke. Even if you only stay a few months, Lucy and Ellie need proper clothing so they are not confined to the house all the time. They all need to learn better table manners, especially the boys. They were chewing with their mouths open at the dinner table.”

“I suppose they could use some assistance.” He stared down at her hand on his forearm.

Elizabeth knew she should remove her hand, but remembering Sophie’s advice, she squeezed his arm instead. With what she hoped was a flirtatious smile, she said, “I can help you.”

His brown eyes darkened. “Oh?”

“I can assist you so you are ready to face Society, too. You need a valet to cut your hair.” Slowly, she reached up and touched the dark strands. His hair felt coarse to her fingertips but she loved the sensation. She’d never felt so bold in her life.

He reached for her wrist and held it tight. “Elizabeth, I am practically engaged.”

Oh, God, he must think she was nothing but a strumpet. “I’m sorry,” she said, pulling both her hands away. “I didn’t mean anything by…”

He turned to face her fully, and gently clasped her shoulders. “Perhaps if I wasn’t almost engaged…”

“No, I truly meant nothing,” she said, disconcerted at being caught flirting with him, and more disturbed by the feelings of his hands on her shoulders. Her heart pounded in her chest as she fought for some semblance of sanity.

No matter how she tried, she couldn’t look away from him. Why did she have to be attracted to him?

He shook his head slightly and removed his hands from her. “Elizabeth, what do you think I should do about the children?” he asked in a strangely hoarse voice.

Elizabeth moved back to her seat and sipped her sherry. “I can assist you so they get the proper clothing and education they need while here. But…”

“But what?”

She stared down at her hands and said, “I would need to stay here to show them a proper example.”

Will sat down in his seat with a smile. Now he understood exactly what she had been up to with her contagious flirting. She wanted to stay in the house. An idea that made him cringe, and yet warmed him at the same time. The thought of her sleeping across the hall from him was a worry. The woman was pure temptation.

But she was right. The children needed a better example, and proper clothing and manners. He would resist her flirtations by thinking of Abigail.

Elizabeth pressed her pink lips together and looked down at her hands. “I guess I have my answer. I shall pack my things tomorrow.”

“Elizabeth, you don’t need to leave.” But she did. Every move she made tempted him in a way he hadn’t felt for a long time. He tried to imagine Abigail’s face, but the only image in his mind was of Elizabeth lying naked in a bed.

“I believe you say that purely to ease your conscience. It is not necessary. I shall leave tomorrow.”

“No,” he said firmly. “You are right about the children. They need guidance in a way I can’t give them.”

“Lucy and Ellie really should make their bow before they enter Society. It’s a rather large undertaking.”

“Their bow?”

Elizabeth smiled at him. “They must be presented to the queen.”

That was a terrible idea. A presentation to the queen would only make both girls want to stay here. They would see only the advantages of being wealthy and titled.

“William?” Elizabeth quizzed softly. “Should I make the arrangements?”

“Yes.” That was not what he was supposed to tell her. He should tell her to leave right now and not to involve his sisters in anything to do with Society.

She rose gracefully from her seat and smiled down at him. “Thank you, William. Good night.”

He watched the gentle sway of her hips in the pale green silk. What was it about her that made him say the exact opposite of what he should?

He loved Abigail. At least he thought he did. For the past five years, he’d waited for her to either disregard her father’s objections or help him overcome those doubts. Still, Will’s feelings had not changed for her. Had they?

During the past year, her letters had come less frequently, and there had been a distance to her writing. Why hadn’t he fought harder for her hand in marriage? Why hadn’t she done more for him after his father’s death?

Dammit!

One full day in this damned country and already he felt confliction running through his veins. Abigail was the one for him. Even if he still felt some anger toward her for not marrying him. He couldn’t want another woman. And yet, even as he had that thought, his erection pressed tightly against his trousers.

There was something about Elizabeth that stayed with him long after she’d left the room. Perhaps these lustful feelings were merely from denying himself for so long. When he’d first met Abigail, she’d only been sixteen. He’d promised himself that he would never dishonor her by asking her to give herself to him before marriage. They had only shared a few stolen kisses.

Will stood and moved to the small cherry table in the corner holding the spirits. Not much of a brandy drinker, he found a bottle of whisky. After pouring a small glass, he drained it in one gulp. He had to get out of this house…but he had nowhere to go. And according to Elizabeth, he would be ridiculed on the basis of his clothing.

A sense of incompetence filled him. The only other time he felt this inept was the first month after Father died. Only then, he had Alicia to help guide him with the younger children. Now, he had no one.

Except Elizabeth.

The next afternoon Will sat at his desk shuffling through his newly inherited huge stack of papers and ledgers. He’d barely slept last night with all his tossing and turning and dreaming of a woman he shouldn’t even think of.

“Lord Somerton is here to see you, Your Grace.”

Will shook his head and looked up at the footman. “Who?”

“Viscount Somerton, Your Grace.”

Will frowned, thinking back to his short years in England. “Do I know him?” he muttered.

“I could not say, Your Grace.”

He shrugged. “Show him in.”

The footman nodded and then left. The loud sound of footsteps followed. A tall man with short light brown hair stood in the threshold.

“Will Atherton, as I live and breathe. You truly don’t look any different.”

Will stood and stared at the stranger. “Do I know you?”

The man rolled his head to the side. “Somerton. When you were six, you came to my father’s home in Suffolk for a few weeks in the summer.”

He did? Why did he have no memory of that summer? “Well then, welcome to my home, Somerton.”

Somerton handed him a bottle of fine whisky.

“How did you know I drink whisky?”

“Just a feeling.” Somerton sank into the deep leather chair by the fireplace. “How are you settling in?”

“Very well,” he lied.

Somerton tilted his head with a slight smirk. Staring at the papers on Will’s desk, he inquired, “Indeed?”

Will sat back down in his chair and blew out a breath. “No. I don’t have a clue what to do with most of this stuff. The only thing I’ve figured out, thanks to Elizabeth, is that I’m not allowed to sell off most of my inheritance.”

“Ah, yes. The joy of entitlement.”

“You know something of this?” Will asked quietly.

“Of course, I do. But why do you want to sell off anything? The late duke was rumored to be as wealthy as—”

“He was, and apparently left the estates in perfect condition.” Will stared at the bottle of whisky and wondered if two in the afternoon was too early an hour to open it.

“Then why…?” Somerton halted as if he realized the question he asked was terribly improper.

“I need to sell things off and return to America.” Why the hell was he telling this complete stranger about his life?

Somerton leaned back and smiled. “I understand.”

“You do?”

“Someone is awaiting your return, and you want to show her what a success you are over here.”

“Something like that.”

Somerton rose and grabbed the bottle of whisky. “I believe this conversation needs a little nourishment.”

He waited while Somerton poured two rather large glasses of whisky. Will reached out, took the glass from Somerton, and raised it to his lips. Before he could sip, Somerton stopped him.

“A toast,” Somerton said with a genuine smile. “To friendships rekindled.”

Will saluted him with his glass and took a long sip of the smoky liquid. “Damn, that is some fine whisky.”

“Nothing but the best.” Somerton returned to his seat. “Now, tell me more about this need to go to America.”

Before he knew it, Will had explained everything from Abigail, to his sister, to Elizabeth. Although he did leave out a few details, especially with regards to Elizabeth.

“So Elizabeth has decided to stay and help you get your sisters ready for Society?” Somerton asked.

“Yes.”

He smiled. “Excellent. Now how can I assist you with this?” He pointed toward the stack of papers on the desk.

“I need the advice of a good solicitor.”

“I happen to know of an excellent man.” Somerton paused for a moment as if struggling with his words. “But you will need more than that.”

“Oh?” What else did he need? A solicitor would be able to help him sort through this mess and possibly find him a buyer for some of the land not entailed.

“Let me just say you don’t look like a duke. And you don’t act like one, either.”

“I’m not a duke.” Lord, the man was sounding like Elizabeth now. That stopped him short. Had Elizabeth asked Somerton to come here?

“Well, while you are in England, you are the Duke of Kendal. People will expect you to act a certain way.”

“And if I don’t?” he asked casually. Personally, he didn’t care if Society accepted him or not. He wouldn’t be here long enough for it to matter.

“You said you wanted to sell off some of your estates and land.”

“Yes,” Will said impatiently.

“Then you must look and act the part. You will need to make acquaintances with these people, even if it’s only a superficial friendship. The men you meet will be the ones most interested in what you are selling. You will need to join White’s for this purpose.”

At least Will didn’t need to look like a complete incompetent—he did know about the gentlemen’s club. Of course, he had no reason to tell Somerton that his own father was rejected because he wasn’t deemed the right sort of man.