Authors: Embracing Scandal
“No, not any longer. Things have changed, Becca. You’ve changed them. Changed me.”
In a slow and seductive motion that she was always powerless to resist, Cayle pulled her towards him and bent his head to nuzzle the sensitive skin behind her ear. She shivered, knowing she’d give in to his caresses, even if she hated herself for it the next day.
“Now, tell me about today. Please?”
“You already know,” she snapped, demonstrating she wasn’t a complete enough ninny to fall for this change of tactics to entice her full disclosure. “Your informants will have given you a full report by now, so what do you want from me?”
He stilled, an abnormal tension in his voice. “Are you using Bennett to get back at me, for my leaving four years ago?”
“No, of course not. I’m not that petty, as you very well know.”
When Cayle heaved out a deep relieved sigh, Becca realised he’d truly been worried and wasn’t quite sure what to make of this latest revelation. “I’m only using Arthur as a speedy way to obtain information.”
“Ha! Anyone can see he’s using you for that very purpose.”
“I’m not an idiot, Cayle. While Arthur and I went to the railway tracks, the others visited Margaret.”
“Yes, about that, why the railway tracks? As several vicious minded busybodies delighted in pointing out to me, a railway station is not the most salubrious place for an assignation with one’s paramour.”
She stomped her foot down hard on his, but forgot they were both barefoot. It hurt her soft underfoot more than his leathery skin. “Ouch!”
“Well, I could say it serves you right, but I’ll kiss it better instead … ”
Squatting on his haunches before her, Cayle lifted her bare foot to his mouth and sucked her biggest toe into the wet heat of his mouth. Becca grabbed at his shoulders so she didn’t overbalance and she gasped and moaned and her legs wobbled and she almost missed the rest.
“If you give me an honest answer.”
“We needed confirmation of Arthur’s precarious financial situation. He’s spent widely and unwisely. I distracted Arthur by asking him to escort me to the time trial for our new locomotive.” To Becca’s disappointment, Cayle released her foot and stood, waiting for her to continue. “If we’re permitted to build The Great Western line, our locomotive needs to reach average speeds of over 60 miles per hour. As one of the engineers, Jonathon’s directive is to reduce travel for the 53 miles from Paddington to Didcot to less than 60 minutes — ”
Cayle burst into peals of laughter that had him bending to his knees. Becca rolled her eyes and snorted. “See! This is why I don’t tell people, especially you, where I go. All you’ll do is scoff.”
“No, no, go on, please.” He chortled again. “It just strikes me as amusing, hilarious, in fact. Half of London was watching you today. The syndicate, my men, Bennett, me. All waiting to see what sinister events were about to unfold around the infamous Lady Rebecca. And you, with your scientific obsessions, stood in a grass field, beside a rail line, timing a train.”
“Our engineering schedule is important!”
He chortled once more. She stomped her foot, and hurt it, again.
“Important?” He sobered and shook his head. “Men are trying to kill you, my hair’s turning grey at a rapid pace, your friends are whor — Ouch!”
Her foot hurt from hitting his hard shin, but it was worth it.
“Damn it, you kicked me.”
“You said something despicable about my friends.”
“I said your friends, your gentlemen’s friends, are in a whorl, a spiral with their finances.”
She wasn’t fooled by his innocent look for a moment.
“Hmm, anyway, Margaret’s father is paying to acquire Arthur’s title for his daughter, but this money hasn’t come from him. So, the consortium is paying Arthur, and handsomely, to fawn over me.”
“You mean he’s being paid to keep you under control. I hope you didn’t imagine he’d break his betrothal for you.” She knew Cayle was trying to warn her of Arthur’s lurking evil but once again, he’d wounded her. “You’re not that gullible,” he said, twisting the knife deeper.
“Thank you so much for pointing out my shortcomings.”
“Oh, God, I’m sorry. You turn me so inside out that I consistently do and say the wrong things around you.”
The heat in his look reminded her of the times when things were very, very good between them. When she was in his arms they connected like bees with flowers and when they made love, he found exactly the right words to whisper in her ear. Those words of loving and endearments revealed his true feelings, so why did she bring out the worst in him at times like this?
“Cayle, even now you order me about, and I won’t be treated like an inferior. I want a man who sees me as an equal.”
“Bennett will never do that! He uses women up, then throws them away.”
“He wants me to be his mistress.”
“I know that already. Why do you think I was so angry today?” His yell was so loud that the vase on the shelf shook. “I wanted to kill him when he told me last night.”
“You made me your mistress.”
“I also asked you to marry me.”
“So did Arthur. Ask me to marry him.”
“But I meant it! I want to marry you.”
She looked at him with scorn.
“All right. I admit it. Perhaps not at the time,” he tried again. “At first, I only asked to protect you. But later, when I thought about it, I could see the advantages.”
Once again, she glared at him.
“We suit, in the bedroom. We could have children.”
“What? Children who never see their father as he’s in London and they, and me, will be in the country. No thank you. My own father deserts us whenever possible and I wouldn’t inflict that pain on any other child. At least Arthur professes to love me.”
“Love you. He’s obsessed with you. Dangerously so. And that’s why I told you to stay away from him.”
“How do you know so much about him?”
He rolled his eyes but then pulled her to a seat, retaining a hold on her hand. “It’s time I told you the truth about some things. When I was at school with Arthur, several times he was in trouble over matters with women. Women he’d seduced, made promises to.”
She interrupted him, “Yes, yes, you told me that. What haven’t you told me?”
“Arthur’s preference was always for women who resembled his dead mother. She had red hair, green eyes, pale skin, and freckles. Like you.”
Frowning, she tried to make sense of this. “Madame told us several men who visit her establishment have preferences. Blonde hair. Large bosoms. How often does this happen?”
Cayle shook his head in bewilderment. “I just told you that the man you went out with today, against my express orders, has a deviant preference. And you, you want to research how often it happens.”
On the defensive, she pulled away from him. “I’ll not apologise for the way my mind works.”
Taking back her hand, he smiled and kissed her fingers. “Sweetheart, I love the way your mind,” he looked down lower, “and every other part of you works.”
He kissed her nose and moved lower, covering her lips. It suddenly occurred to Becca that he’d become expert in kissing her at the exact moment her mouth opened to launch another tirade at him. When their latest kiss finished, she sat back with a little huff.
“And you know, you can’t always settle our arguments with a kiss.”
He grinned, highly amused but not in the least repentant at being caught out. “But, minx, it’s the most effective way of silencing your active little mouth, plus your extremely busy mind.”
“Hmm. If you’ve finished trying to distract me, tell me what else happened today to put you in such a sour mood.”
He sighed. “When I couldn’t find you today, when I was told you were with that madman, I went a little crazy. Like him, I’ve developed an obsession with redheads.”
“And you don’t want to share his women.”
“Mother of God! How can an intelligent woman be so dense about how I feel about her? I don’t want to share you, Rebecca Jamison. Memories of us together haunt me. When I close my eyes, I see your hair spread on my pillow, your mouth on my body. I feel the warmth of you enclosing me and I know no one else will ever satisfy me.”
“Oh!”
“Exactly!” He nodded and gave her a despairing yet resigned look. “But to save what’s left of my sanity, you’ll at least agree that after we’re married, you’ll stop going to unsavoury parts of the town.”
“See,” she hissed at him. “That’s why I can’t marry you. One moment you say things that make me feel special, wonderful. Then you spoil it being arrogant and overbearing. Those women need me.”
“Damnation, Becca! I need you!” He stood to tower over her, pointing a finger down at her. “And you need me. My name and my protection. We must marry.”
Jumping to her feet, Becca faced him squarely, hands on hips. She enunciated each word as if speaking to a particularly deficient child.
“I. Do. Not. Need. To. Marry. We earn a substantial income. That’s why I went out today. If you want a complete recording of my movements, I went on the omnibus to Exchange Alley and visited my contacts.”
“Exchange Alley isn’t a part of the city you should visit alone either.”
“I wasn’t alone, I was with Ada.”
“Ada, Ada Lovelace? Byron’s daughter? Is she part of your madcap group at those coffee houses?”
“Ada is a genius. She is devising a program for an accounting machine that — . Oh, never mind. And my friends are not madcap. All those women have normal scientific interests and we meet other traders and scientists.”
Clenched fists on his hips, he glared at her. “And normal people — ”
“Huh! You mean women! Normal women. Bowing down to husbands, staying at home, holding afternoon tea, type of women. I knew it!”
“Knew what? If you always claim to know what I’m thinking before I even manage to think it, perhaps you’d be good enough to explain it to me and not leave me floundering to keep pace with a woman whose astuteness is so far superior to mine that she leaves me breathless just being in her presence.”
“There! See. I knew sooner or later you’d perceive me as others do, as a peculiarity.”
“I’ve never thought that. Never! I admire in you the very things others may find intimidating. How shrewd you are, how conspicuous, how dedicated. And I cannot consider your Midas touch an oddity when my entire family suffers that affliction. Matrimony also involves more than money, you know, more than stock markets and interest rates and taxes. What about children?”
For a moment, hope blossomed as Becca envisioned a noisy brood of children clambering over her skirts, calling for their papa. Children who’d have black eyes the exact shade of their father’s. The boys would have truant locks of hair constantly being pushed out of their eyes and the girls would have mischief written all over freckled faces.
As a little girl, she’d dreamed of a husband who adored her and a house full of children. She’d given up those dreams to give her sisters and brothers the futures they deserved and if she could finish this one accomplishment, formulate her next railway coup, her family would be forever financially solvent.
Therefore, she swallowed her hopes and dreams once again and told him, “Some things are never meant to be.”
“Then what about the joys of a marriage bed? You’re a sensual woman. That’s already proven. Are you prepared to forgo pleasure, the sort we shared last night, for the rest of your life?”
He stepped closer and ran a finger down her cheek, making her shiver. “What’ll happen when your brothers and sisters no longer need you? Will you remain a shriveled up old spinster, performing the role of doting aunt, always on guard to preserve propriety?”
“Be that as it may, I’ll not be forced into marrying. When I marry … ”
His smile was smug, frustrating her.
“If … I marry … ”
He groaned, pleasing her.
“I’ll do the asking. That way I’ll know the gentleman accepts me as an equal. That he respects me enough to do things my way.”
“Good, ask me now. I’ll accept.”
“However,” she continued, ignoring him, “I won’t be the cause of more scandal in your life. If I married you, a duke, people would talk. I run a society for women that investigates scheming men and makes investments. Polite society would crucify me, and you, if the extent of my involvement in the Stock Exchange becomes public knowledge.”
“And that’s another thing,” Cayle yelled. “It’s way past time you disclosed the full extent of your involvement to me. How many of the decisions does Michael make? For your family and the other ladies.”
“Decisions are often discussed at meals in my family.”
“That’s enough! You’ve avoided my questions for the last time. I want the complete truth. How much of the railway expansion planning do you do alone?”
“It really is none of your concern.”
He looked appalled. “None of my concern? If we marry — ”
“We’re not marrying.”
“Let me rephrase that. When we marry, your concerns become my concerns.”
“That’s why I can never marry you.”
“I don’t comprehend why we keep arguing about this. Don’t you trust that I can handle things as well as you?”
“Don’t play the idiot. You’re an intelligent man.”
“Obviously not intelligent enough to be a match for a bluestocking like Lady Rebecca.”
With a frustrated groan, she spun around and put her small hand in the centre of his large chest.
“Believe me, if there was any way around this, I’d marry you.”
He grinned down at her, all earlier anger evaporating. “Really? Cross your heart and hope to die?”
“No, damn your childish impudence. Can’t you see it’s impossible? No matter what I want, or you.”
Becca put her hands to her head and groaned. This confusing man’s ever changing emotions would be the death of her.
“Too many innocent people would suffer if we were to have a permanent association, of any sort. You’d regret it, within weeks, days probably, when rumours spread about me and my strange ways. I’ll not cause more harm to you, or your brothers. As soon as we’ve destroyed this syndicate, our lives can return to normal. You need never see me again. It’s for your own good.”
Cayle stepped closer, towering over her and poking his finger in her chest this time. Heavens, what a pair they were.