Scandal of the Season Page 8

  “Shall we sit down?” Ancroft asked, pointing to the table set for three.

  “Mrs. Mayweather did not join you?” Somerton asked as he walked to the table.

  “She was looking for a little more than I could give her.”

  “Ahh, marriage,” Somerton said with a smug grin.

  “That is what most women want, is it not, Mrs. Smith?”

  Victoria sat in the seat Somerton held out for her. “For some women, I suppose that is true.”

  Somerton took his seat with a frown. “But not you?”

  She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “You forget I have been married, darling. Why would I want to lock myself into that institution again? It is only made so men can control us.”

  Ancroft laughed. “I like her, Somerton. It is refreshing to hear a woman speak so candidly.”

  “Yes,” he answered but gave her a curious look as if he didn’t believe her.

  The innkeeper knocked and then entered with two servants trailing behind him. One maid placed a bottle of wine on the table while the other held a loaf of warm bread in a basket. Instantly, Victoria heard her stomach rumble.

  The maid poured wine for everyone as the innkeeper told them the menu for the evening. Victoria picked up her wineglass and took a sip of the dry fruity beverage. The warmth soothed her tired body. If only she were in her own room where she could order a bath.

  “Vi—Anne,” Somerton started and looked over at her. “Did you want the fish or the roast beef?”

  “The beef, please.”

  “Are you all right?” he asked, leaning in closer to her. “You look a little dazed.”

  “Excuse me, my lords. I am just a little weary from the trip.”

  Ancroft nodded. “I understand completely. At least you are better off than my cousin’s friend.”

  “Oh?” she muttered.

  “Poor Avis cannot bear the motion of a carriage for long without…well, you do understand I’m certain.”

  Victoria looked over at Somerton in shock. She suddenly could not catch her breath. Ancroft…now she remembered! Of course, he knew Avis because he was Elizabeth’s cousin, and Lord Selby’s friend and Jennette’s friend, too. While Victoria had never met him, she had heard several conversations regarding him.

  He knew her friends.

  She would be ruined.

  And it was all Somerton’s fault.

  Seeing Somerton’s gaze grow cold, she understood he wanted her to continue the conversation. “Who is your cousin, my lord? Perhaps I know of her.”

  “Lady Elizabeth. She recently married and is now the Duchess of Kendal.”

  “Do you know of her, Anne?” Somerton said as he stared at her. The warning in his eyes was not needed.

  Victoria shook her head slowly as if mulling over the question. She turned toward Ancroft. “I don’t believe I do. I am certain they must be lovely ladies if they are friends of yours, my lord.”

  Thankfully, the servers returned with food. Victoria picked up her wine and drank down deeply. This act might be far harder than she ever expected. Somerton had told her that no one of her acquaintance would be at the party. This was a dreadful situation and she was in far too deep to halt it.

  As the evening wore on, Victoria realized several things. Ancroft and Somerton had known each other for many years, but still there was a certain distance as if Somerton wouldn’t let anyone get too close to him. But more importantly, she felt quite certain that the only reason they were dining together was to test her. Somerton must have wanted to gauge her reaction to Ancroft’s relationship with her friends. That only served to increase her anger at the man sitting next to her, which in turn caused her to drink more than she ever had in her life.

  “Do you remember the night of your eighteenth birthday, Somerton?” Ancroft smiled. “We thought you’d never get the nerve up to walk into Lady Whitely’s.”

  “Lady Whitely? Who is she?” Victoria asked in an innocent tone. He’d gone to Lady Whitely’s before they’d had sexual congress on the side step of St. George’s Church. Her ire surged again.

  “Perhaps this is a topic for just the two of us to reminisce upon, Nicholas.” Somerton sat back against his chair and sipped his wine.

  Ancroft shrugged. “Somerton, do not be such a prude. The woman is your mistress for godsakes.”

  “True, but it still is in bad form to speak of such things in front of her.”

  “Nonetheless,” Victoria interjected. “As I am sitting right here and asked a question which no one has deemed necessary to answer, I think we should speak of it.”

  “I do like her, Somerton,” Ancroft said with a chuckle. He leaned over closer to her and said, “If he should ever bore you, I would be happy to be your protector.”

  Victoria smiled at him and then glanced over at Somerton. She reached over and stroked Somerton’s cheek relishing the hard feel of his jaw, hoping to unnerve him as much as meeting Ancroft had unsettled her.

  “I highly doubt he could ever bore me. And I intend to make certain he never becomes bored with me.”

  Somerton clasped her hand and kissed it softly. Sparks traveled up her arm as she attempted to pull away. His hand held her tight. He stared at her as his eyes turned greener.

  So much for unnerving him.

  “Sweetheart,” he whispered, “you have nothing to worry about there.”

  Anthony watched as Victoria endeavored to maintain her stability while she walked up the uneven steps. He opened the door, and she tripped over the threshold. Catching her close, he whispered, “Just how much wine did you have?”

  “Three glasses.”

  “If you are to maintain your pretense as my mistress you must learn to hold your drink better.” He shut the door with his foot and walked her over to the chair by the fireplace.

  She put a hand to her forehead. “Why is the room moving?”

  “It is not.” He placed more coal on the brazier to last the night. “You are drunk.”

  “No, I am mot. Did I say mot?”

  “Yes, I believe you did, which only proves my point. You’ve had far too much to drink.”

  She stood up unsteadily. “Well, I am not drunk. And why didn’t you tell me Ancroft is Elizabeth’s cousin?”

  “If I had believed it might come up, then I would have informed you.”

  “No, you wouldn’t have. It was a test, wasn’t it? You wanted to discover if I could handle an introduction to a man who knew my friends.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Did I pass?”

  “No. You looked at me as if seeking an answer when your eyes should only have been on Ancroft.” How did the woman know he had been testing her? Once he’d seen Ancroft in the courtyard, and she did not comment on his name, Anthony seized the opportunity to determine how she would react to a man that was not only acquainted but also related to one of her friends. Had Nicholas not brought up Avis’s name, Anthony would have mentioned Elizabeth’s name.

  “Well, perhaps I should keep my eyes on Ancroft all the time. After all, he did infer he was looking for a new mistress.”

  A flash of anger surged in him. He crossed the distance and pulled her close to him. “You shall do no such thing. As long as I am paying you the only person you will look at is me.”

  He stared down at the fire in her blue eyes and started. The urge to kiss her lips again filled him with unwanted desire. He couldn’t have her after what he did to her. But nothing his brain told him stopped his head from inclining toward hers. Her eyes widened as she realized his intention. Her beautiful lips parted with anticipation that his lips would touch hers.

  Just as he started to pull her closer and let his eyes shut, she pushed him away.

  “Just exactly what do you think you’re doing?” she exclaimed. “I am certainly not that drunk.”

  “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.

  Chapter Nine

  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.”
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br />   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.