His Scandal Read online

Page 12


  “Why, of course. Allow me to amuse the ladies while you see to Willoughby’s flowers.”

  He sent her a positively wicked grin, then walked into the midst of four scandalized girls. Emmeline was certain they were counting their blessings that their mothers weren’t there to keep them away from the notorious knight. She stood beside Maxwell and watched Alex sit between two girls on the settle, then spread his long arms on the wooden back behind them.

  Rolling her eyes, Emmeline turned back to Maxwell, who looked about as wilted as his flowers would soon be.

  “Maxwell, let me find a vase.”

  He gave her a grateful smile. “Thank you. I guess many of us had the same idea, eh?”

  “It was very kind of both of you, I’m sure,” she murmured, beckoning to the maidservant standing near the door. She gave instructions to the girl, handed her the flowers, and watched her go. Emmeline wished she could go, too. She’d planned to relax with a new book while Blythe slept.

  Perhaps, as he’d suggested, Alex could do her entertaining for her. She watched in dismay at how easily he charmed the young ladies. He even included Maxwell, who sat rather awkwardly in their midst, with little to say. If only Maxwell had a small portion of the confidence Alex had, she was certain Blythe would be interested in him. She wondered if there was any way to teach such a thing.

  Within the next half-hour, she fended off a visit from a bored Blythe, served the ladies wine punch, and spoke quiet words of encouragement to Maxwell. Alex continued to interrupt, obviously including them in his circle of admirers. As if he needed any more, she thought, smiling grudgingly.

  “Lady Emmeline,” he finally said, “come to the window, please; I have something to show you. I know how interested in horseflesh you are. The rest of you sweet ladies will have to question Lord Willoughby about his winery. He grows his own grapes, you know.”

  As Alex took her arm and led her away, she looked over her shoulder apologetically at Maxwell, whose eyes had gone wide as all four lovely women turned to look at him.

  At the window she shook off Alex’s hand, but didn’t look into his face. “That was hardly necessary. Where is your horse, so I can return to my guests?”

  “Actually, you can’t see him from here,” he said.

  The amusement in his voice made her groan and turn to leave, until he caught her hand.

  “Lady Emmeline, is it so horrible that I’d like a moment alone with you?”

  “Alex, this is not the time—”

  “Won’t you even look at me? Turning cowardly so soon?”

  He already knew her too well, she thought, lifting her gaze to the challenge. He stared down at her with those dark, knowing eyes, as the sun glistened in his black hair. Where their hands touched, heat blossomed.

  “It is hardly cowardly to return to my guests,” she said.

  “You are working much too hard, Emmeline.”

  “And you had to come and give me even more to do?”

  “I?”

  He was so good at pretending innocence. Yet she didn’t remove her hand from his.

  “How could I be a bother?” he continued. “I’ve been helping you. I’ve been amusing those silly young girls with my outlandish stories, refilling their goblets—”

  “Practically feeding them with your own fingers, weren’t you?” she said, knowing that her smile was no longer hidden.

  “You noticed! All my hard work is not going to waste.”

  Emmeline sighed and shook her head. “Go home, Alex. You won’t see Blythe today.”

  “Perhaps I didn’t come to see her,” he said in a lower voice.

  She stared at him, trying to remove her hand even as he held her tighter. “These games don’t help, so cease them. I’ve already told you that your pursuit of Blythe is useless. Please don’t make me involve my brothers.”

  “Why, Em, have you reached a situation you cannot handle alone?”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “No, no, please, I understand. Your brothers have long been gone from London, haven’t they?”

  He touched a sore point with her. “It’s been a year since we’ve seen them.”

  “Then by all means, summon them. You don’t need me as an excuse. But you might not want to mention my name to your eldest brother.”

  “John?”

  “That’s the one.”

  Emmeline narrowed her eyes. “Do you know my brothers?”

  “Oh yes, all three. Studied with them, even. But I was forced to play a joke upon John, and I fear he has yet to forgive me.”

  “A joke?” Whatever sort of joke could anyone pull on John? He prided himself on knowing the character of every man he dealt with, and would not tolerate fools.

  But then, Alex was hardly a fool, and she wondered why he liked to pretend so. As they stared at one another, she vaguely heard a raised voice.

  “I do believe you’re…wanted, Lady Emmeline,” he murmured, his thumbs rubbing circles on the backs of her hands. His gaze dropped to her lips, and a shock traveled through her.

  Chapter 14

  Alex knew people might be watching them, and didn’t care—but Emmeline would. Though he could easily lose himself in her blue-green eyes, he released her and looked toward the front hall.

  Edmund stood there, watching beneath raised eyebrows. Alex frowned at him.

  The servant stood hesitantly beside Edmund. “Lady Emmeline? Sir Edmund Blackwell comes to visit.”

  Alex watched her stride away from him, and he knew a puzzling need to pull her back, to keep her at his side.

  “Sir Edmund,” Emmeline said. “How good of you to see to Blythe’s welfare.”

  “My lady, your sister is such a gentle soul. It grieves me to know that she suffers.” She led him toward her other guests. “Grieve no more, Sir Edmund, for Blythe is recovering quite well. Come, allow me to introduce you to her friends.”

  Afterward when Edmund finally glanced his way, Alex motioned him over with a nod, and he brought a goblet with him.

  “Fine wine,” Edmund said. “Willoughby made it, you know.”

  Alex only shrugged, finding he didn’t wish to taste the stuff. He knew Willoughby’s game. He watched Emmeline lean over to speak to the man, who laughed as he answered.

  Something curled tighter inside him with a tinge of unfamiliar pain, and he needed to ignore it. “So what are you doing here, Blackwell?”

  “Blackwell, is it?” Edmund’s amusement was palpable. “From that dark look on your face, I’d say you need me.”

  “I don’t need you except for your good company at the bar.”

  “Then Lady Emmeline needs me.”

  Alex rounded on him. “What?”

  Edmund laughed. “I like her. I want to make sure you treat her well in this quest for her sister’s kiss. But then maybe she’s suitably preoccupied with someone else.”

  He raised his glass in toast toward Willoughby, and Alex felt the need to hit someone. “He’s pursuing Lady Blythe.”

  “So certain, are you?”

  “Yes. He’s my competition.” He took Edmund’s goblet and drained it. “The stuff’s bitter, is it not?”

  “I thought it quite good. Willoughby might be on to something.”

  “I have something better to talk about.” He turned his back to Emmeline and her guests, as if he were looking out the window. “I need a favor.”

  “You have only to ask.”

  Alex glanced at him and smiled. “You haven’t heard it yet, old friend.” When Edmund only shrugged, he continued, “I’m short on money since the robbery.”

  “I know. Your creditors have begun to question even me.”

  “I need a fresh infusion, which means a trip to Cumberland. And I can’t leave London right now. Would you be willing to take the journey for me, as you’ve done so ably before?”

  Alex knew it was ridiculous to ask Edmund to leave in the middle of their wager, he was as competitive as Alex himself.

  But Alex
just couldn’t bring himself to leave town, not when things were going so well with Emmeline. Each day was more interesting than the last, and the wager had paled in comparison.

  “I’ll go,” Edmund said quietly.

  Alex stared at him. “I was certain you would refuse. There is the wager.”

  “There is.”

  Was he imagining it, or did Edmund look pale? “We could call it a draw.”

  “And why would you want to do that, old friend?”

  Alex shrugged, even as he looked at Emmeline. She laughed in response to something Willoughby said, and he watched her fine figure as she leaned back in the chair. She wore lighter colors this day, and she seemed as young and carefree as the girls she entertained. Did Willoughby bring about such ease in her?

  “Is it Lady Emmeline?” Edmund asked.

  “She is…more of a challenge, I admit.”

  “Very well. We’ll discuss the wager when I return. I’ll be off to pack. Come soon and write out a letter to your steward for me.”

  “You’re going now?” he asked curiously. “You just arrived.”

  Edmund didn’t meet his eyes. “I see no reason to wait. You can explain my departure to the ladies. I’ll see you at the tavern.”

  As Edmund walked away, Alex stared after him, feeling uneasy. It wasn’t like his friend to abandon a challenge, especially one involving money. Edmund had been distracted lately, hardly himself. What was going on?

  He glanced at Emmeline as she approached, and felt something ease inside him.

  “Your friend left rather abruptly,” she said.

  “I know. He asked me to beg your forgiveness.”

  “He had a pressing errand, I take it?”

  “I guess so,” Alex said speculatively. Then he smiled down at her. “But I don’t. I could keep you amused for the rest of the afternoon.”

  She sighed, and suddenly he saw her weariness.

  “Ah, we are a burden,” he said, before she could answer. “I’ll take all your guests away and let you rest.”

  Scrutinizing him, she asked, “You would do that?”

  “I would—and I can. Just watch me.”

  “Ever one for a challenge, aren’t you?”

  “Makes a dull life interesting.”

  Her regard intensified. “Your life is so dull, then? Perhaps parties do not satisfy you, after all.”

  He leaned down toward her, inhaling the sweet scent of her, enjoying the way her breath caught in a soft gasp. “The parties are only a preliminary, love. It’s what comes later, in the dark of the night, that makes it all worthwhile. I have offered to be your guide in such pleasures.”

  For a brief moment, he savored the memory of a firelit night in this parlor, when he held her tightly to him. He knew she felt it, too, this awareness, this need.

  He thought for certain she would blush to her toes and leave him, but Emmeline was obviously made of sterner stuff. She lifted her chin and eyed him with a cool superiority.

  “’Tis a shame that only in darkness do you feel at ease. Why is that? What is wrong with showing the world the real Alex Thornton?”

  “You think I hide myself?”

  “Do you?”

  He touched her chin. “You’ll just have to find out, Em. Now, off I go to amuse your guests.”

  He was true to his word. Within minutes, he was taking all the ladies—and Maxwell—out for a walk in the parks of her father’s estate. Emmeline sat before the fire with her book, enjoying the solitude. Only when she noticed how dark it was getting did she realize Alex must have made sure they all left without returning to the house.

  She was grateful.

  Though Emmeline and Blythe planned to attend festivities at Whitehall at the end of next week, Emmeline wanted to bring Blythe and Maxwell together sooner. She just had to find a way that didn’t seem obvious.

  Alex presented her with an opportunity when he invited her and Blythe to attend a country fair with him at the nearby village of Islington on Saturday.

  In Emmeline’s bedchamber that night, Blythe held up his letter. “Oh, do say we can go, Emmy! Father will be away, and the last fair we attended was in Kent, ages ago!”

  Emmeline deliberately hesitated, then hoped God forgave her the lie she uttered. “Dearest, I already invited Lord Willoughby to dinner that afternoon.”

  “He may join us! I’m sure Alex won’t mind.”

  Emmeline did not particularly care if Alex minded; she felt no guilt at all for changing the guest list of his little outing.

  She pulled her dressing gown even tighter and decided to ask the question that had been haunting her. “Dearest, has Sir Alexander tried to kiss you again?”

  “Not at all.”

  Emmeline let out the breath she’d been holding. “Does this bother you?”

  “Not really,” she said, and shot her a saucy grin even as she dabbed Emmeline’s perfume at her wrist. “In fact, I’m looking forward to kissing Lord Seabrook, just to see the difference.”

  Emmeline almost gaped at her, unable to voice a sisterly warning. She couldn’t imagine even caring about another man’s kiss after having experienced Alex’s. And the fact that Blythe seemed unaffected lightened her heart.

  Saturday morn, Emmeline dressed with special care. Around her waist she wore a rolled hip pad, which flared her skirts wide, but would be comfortable when she was riding. She chose a skyblue linen gown that she’d embroidered herself with vines and flowers rather than jewels. She rejoiced in the newness of springtime and had a sense of anticipation that she didn’t understand but didn’t question, either.

  When the maid was finished dressing her hair and perched a small brimmed hat on top, Emmeline felt ready for adventure, for fun. She and Blythe had their mares brought around from the stables, while they waited on marble benches under the bright sun.

  Blythe regarded her thoughtfully for a moment, wearing a fond smile. “Emmy, you look very lovely today.”

  “So do you, dearest,” she replied, squeezing her sister’s hand.

  “Is there a particular reason, I wonder?”

  “What?”

  Blythe shook her head. “Pay me no consequence. I have fanciful imaginings, ’tis all. I just want you to be happy.”

  Maxwell arrived first. He was expressing his thanks for the invitation to Emmeline, and shyly managing to greet Blythe without stuttering, when Alex rode up on his magnificent black gelding. Emmeline withheld a smile when he pulled up short on seeing Maxwell. He shot her a narrow-eyed glance.

  “A good morn to you, Sir Alexander,” she said, feeling like giggling. Ah, foiling his plans brought a cheer to her heart.

  Alex nodded back as he dismounted. “Lady Emmeline, Lady Blythe, your beauty surely rivals this fine English day.” He nodded at Maxwell, his smile still evident. “Lord Willoughby, glad I am that you’re joining us.”

  They clasped hands.

  “Please, call me Maxwell. No need for formalities here.”

  “Then I’m Alex. Shall we be off, ladies?”

  When Emmeline stepped up on the bench to mount her horse, she turned to find Alex before her. She looked down at him crossly. “You’re between me and my horse, sir.”

  “I’m going to put you on your horse,” he said, clasping her about the waist with his big hands.

  She had time only for a squeak of surprise before she found herself set gently on her sidesaddle, as if she were light as cotton. His hands remained a moment too long and she implored him with her eyes.

  “Please, Alex,” she whispered. “They’ll see.”

  He sighed and stepped back. “Mustn’t have old Willoughby notice you’re a woman.”

  “What does that mean?”

  He shook his head as he turned away. Emmeline looked up to find Blythe already mounted, with Maxwell smiling blissfully up at her. She felt a moment of disquiet, as she hoped she was not setting Maxwell up for disappointment.

  The men were soon mounted and leading the way into the heart
of London. As the streets grew crowded, and the upper stories of timbered buildings jutted out over their heads, the gentlemen split up. Maxwell fell back to Emmeline’s side, leaving Alex with Blythe.

  Before an hour had passed, they joined the traffic of the northern road. The city fell behind them, the air smelled clean, and on both sides of them hedgerows divided the rolling farm fields, where the spring planting had begun. By mid-morning they reached Islington, a small village overflowing with London folk out for a day of leisure.

  Emmeline knew she should be enjoying the sights as they approached the village green, where booths roofed with green boughs crowded against one another. But she couldn’t stop watching Alex and Blythe riding before her, pushed so close together by the crowd that their knees bumped. Why couldn’t Maxwell be at her sister’s side, impressing her as he so easily impressed Emmeline?

  She had to admit that there was a secret place inside her that wished Alex were at her side, flashing his wicked grin, letting his gaze tell her what naughtiness he was thinking.

  Alex soon led them out of the village green to a tavern. When Emmeline gave him a pointed stare, he laughed.

  “Lady Emmeline, I know the owner, and I’m sure he’ll keep our horses in his stables for the day.”

  “Do you know the owner of every tavern?” she asked sweetly.

  Blythe hid her smile behind her hand.

  Alex dismounted and stood at Emmeline’s knee. “Only the best. Now do come down, and let’s see what the day brings.”

  He grabbed her about the waist and lifted her down. Her skirts rustled against his garments, and her feet landed between his. She was off-balance, and he caught her arms and held her still, where she could feel the brush of his body. Flustered and refusing to look him in the eye, she stepped away, grateful that at least Maxwell was left to assist Blythe. She heard Alex chuckle.

  With her sister at her side and the men behind, Emmeline walked into the crowd roaming the village green. She felt like a young girl again, overwhelmed with the excitement of watching the jugglers and the acrobats perform. Alittle monkey danced for coins, and there was even a lumbering bear on a chain. The taverns spilled out laughing people, and everywhere were cries for “Fresh tarts!” and “Boiled eels!” and “Ribbons for the ladies!”